The Weapon
by Shane C
Summary: Jake has a big decision to make as he discovers a possible weapon to use against the Yeerks, and the Yeerks have big plans themselves as they try to take the Sharing worldwide.  Follows original series, IC.  Reviews appreciated.  Complete!
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note – This is another fic modeled after the normal books in the Animorphs series. Just like The Champion, this one takes place in between Book 13 and Book 19. It is after Tobias regains his morphing ability from the Ellimist, but before the Animorphs encounter David and the morphing cube. As always, reviews are sincerely appreciated. All that said, enjoy!

**The Weapon**

Chapter 1

My name is Jake.

I won't swear to that. I'm not going to tell you my last name, or even promise that Jake is my first name. I'm not going to tell you where I live. You'll just have to trust that it's a decent-sized suburban town, just like a thousand others. Well, it's different in one vital way – the Yeerks are here in force.

Yeerks. Aliens. Invaders. They're thieves, but they don't steal your car or your money. They want _you_. They look like giant banana slugs in their natural state. Nothing scary about them. It's what they can _do _that's horrifying.

They slither into your head through your ear. It doesn't hurt – they spray a chemical anesthesia that prevents you from feeling it. Once they're inside, they connect their nerve endings to your nerve endings. They can access your memories. They can read every thought you've ever had. As awful as that is, it's not the worst part by a long shot.

They take control. Not of your mind – that would make things easier. You are still you, still able to think and feel, as the Yeerk takes control of your body. You can be starving, but you can't eat unless the Yeerk makes you eat. You can have to use the toilet, and you would just have to suffer unless the Yeerk takes you to the bathroom. You might be thinking, '_Oh, I could be strong enough to resist. I could control myself._' You'd be dead wrong. It's not a matter of willpower – it's simple biology.

Well, not _simple _biology, but biology. Ax could tell you exactly how it works. Aximili-Esgarrouth-Isthill is an Andalite _aristh_ who was stranded on Earth and fights with us. With me, and my four human friends – the Animorphs.

Marco, my best friend since childhood. If I'm the leader of the group, Marco is the comic relief. The guy can grind your nerves with his constant joking and puns. But he can also keep you sane right when you think you're about to lose it.

Rachel, my cousin. Marco likes to say Rachel is insane, that she's happy the Yeerks are here so she has someone to fight, but that's not it. Rachel didn't go around looking for fights before the Yeerks arrived – as a matter of fact, I've never seen anybody cut through life so easily as Rachel. She had looks, brains, a take-no-crap attitude, and an adventurous nature. It's corny, but I like to think that Rachel was born in the wrong time period. She's a warrior, and the fight against the Yeerks is what she was meant to do. They say that JFK was America's last gunslinger, and when he died, so did the gunslingers. Rachel is proof that whoever said that was wrong.

Cassie. She's sort of my girlfriend, although we hardly ever talk about that stuff. We know how we feel about each other, and we don't have to put a label on it. I think she's beautiful. When most people look at her, they just see a short, plain, black girl who, depending on the time of day, is probably covered with a variety of animal excrement. When I look, I see the kindest, most gentle soul I've ever met. Both of her parents are vets, which allows us access to animals we can morph.

That's right, morph. Ax's big brother Elfangor is the one who got us involved in all of this. He was dying, and all he could offer us was the power to morph. We can absorb DNA from any animal we can touch, and then we can turn into that animal at will. It's the only weapon we have to fight the Yeerks.

And morphing brings me to the last human member of our group, Tobias. I say he's human because he was born human. He can talk, read, write, and reason. He's brave and even noble sometimes. He's also trapped in the body of a Red-tailed hawk. If you stay in an animal morph for more than two consecutive hours, you can't morph back. A super-powerful being known as the Ellimist gave Tobias back the power to morph. He even gave him a way to morph _himself_, the human version. But he also gave Tobias an impossible choice – live as a hawk and retain the ability to morph, or live as a human and have no way to help us fight. Tobias made the choice I don't think any of the others could have made – he lived in a meadow in the forest. He didn't go to school, or have a family or a job. We Animorphs _are_ his family. The war against the Yeerks _is _his job.

Tobias isn't totally alone out there in the woods. Like I said before, Ax is an Andalite. He lives in the woods, because we couldn't exactly rent him a place or get him a job. The second you see him, you know he's not from around here.

Andalites are a lot like centaurs. I've even thought that maybe Andalites visited Earth a long time ago, and that's where the legend of the centaur came from, even though Ax assures me this wasn't the case. He's covered with blue fur. He has a long, powerful tail with a blade on the end, and he can whip that thing with more precision and force than you'd think was possible. For defense, he's got an extra set of eyes on top of his head. They're on stalks, and he can point them in any direction. Even though he's just an _aristh_ – a young rookie in the Andalite military – he's a huge asset. Besides being extremely dangerous without having to morph, he's our whole encyclopedia when it comes to knowledge of the Yeerks.

Anyway, so that's us – the Animorphs. We are the only known resistance to the Yeerk invasion. It's a lot like having to finish out a football game when you're getting beat a hundred to nothing. It's hard to stay motivated, to stay hungry, when you're so far behind. But we fight, and we fight hard. We don't know what else to do. There isn't anything else to do. Giving up isn't an option. If the Yeerks are going to take this planet, we're at least going to make them pay for it. And sometimes we _do _hurt them, set them back.

This particular fiasco started on a sunny Saturday morning in my kitchen. I was arguing with my brother Tom, who, unfortunately, is a tool of the Yeerks. He is what we call a controller. I spend every day pretending not to know that an alien slug has hijacked my brother's body.

The argument was typical. Tom was trying to push the Sharing onto me, which is a Yeerk-controlled organization through which they get more controllers. I shouldn't have let it get to me. But I went through it with him at least three times a week. Even if I didn't know he was a controller, I would have gotten bent out of shape with his _pestering_. That's really the only word for it – Tom had given up trying to talk me into joining. Now he was trying to annoy me into it.

"I just don't understand why you won't check it out," Tom said. "One meeting. It wouldn't kill you."

"No, it wouldn't," I agreed. "It also wouldn't do me any good, since I'm not joining."

Tom threw up his hands in frustration. "How can you judge it before you know anything about it? You're so closed-minded!"

I tried to ignore him as I ate my late breakfast. He came and got in my face a little. "One meeting. If you don't like it, you'll never hear the words 'the Sharing' out of my mouth again."

"Tempting," I said, and it almost was. "But I'm not caving, Tom. You say _I'm _closed-minded. You're the one with the thick skull. You'll get it one day. I. Will. Never. Join. Your. Club."

A sneer that was very unlike my brother flashed across his face. That look was pure Yeerk, and it spoke to me clearer than words. It said, "_You _don't get it. The easy way, the hard way, doesn't matter. We'll get you one day." As quickly as it appeared, the expression disappeared, leaving something like anger behind.

"If it weren't for the Sharing teaching me life skills, I'd be pounding your face right now," Tom said. He tried to make it sound funny, like a joke, but there was nothing funny about the way the vein in his temple was pulsing. "I'm just trying to help you. You might be grateful."

"Ha!" I almost choked on a mouthful of egg. '_Grateful? Oh yes, thank you so much for taking away my free will,_' I thought. "Give it up, Tom. You're just being obnoxious, now."

Tom seemed like he wanted to say something else, but I guess he figured he'd pushed it far enough. For now. Because if there was anything in life I could count on, it was death, taxes, and Tom pushing the Sharing. He snatched the plate of food my mom had left out for him and threw it in the microwave, not bothering to look at it. A few seconds after he started the microwave, loud pops starting coming out of it. I saw the sparks and realized Tom had forgotten to take the silverware off of the plate before he'd put it in.

He stood there, staring blankly into space. "Yo, Tom!" I said loudly. "You gonna take the fork out of the microwave, or just let it explode?" He didn't answer me, and a tendril of smoke curled out of the appliance. "Tom!" I yelled, a little freaked out, as I jumped up and pressed stop on the microwave. Tom still didn't move. "Quit playing around, Tom, you're really starting to creep me out."

Instead of replying, his eyes rolled into the back of his head. His knees buckled, and he collapsed onto the kitchen tile. His leg was curled underneath him in an extremely unnatural way, and I winced as I straightened it out for him. By this point, I was really losing it. "Tom! Tom! Quit fooling around!" Even as I said it, I knew this wasn't a prank – the way his leg had been caught up underneath him after he fell was too gruesome.

Things only got worse. Eyes still rolled back, Tom's tongue lolled out of his mouth, and his whole body started to go into convulsions. _Violent _convulsions – I could hear the rapid _click clack _of the backs of his shoes hitting the ground.

"Oh, God!" I yelled. My parents were both out running errands. I didn't know CPR or anything, even though I could tell he was breathing. I didn't know _what _to do. I wasn't even sure if I should call 911 – would the doctors find the Yeerk? And if they did, what would they do to Tom? What would the Yeerks do to Tom?

The seizure intensified, and that did it. If I did nothing, Tom was going to die right here. If I got help, he at least had a chance. I grabbed the phone to call an ambulance.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

When the paramedics got to my house, I quickly brought them into the kitchen where I'd left Tom. I had crammed a couch pillow under his head even though he had stopped seizing. I quickly and calmly explained to the EMTs what had happened in as much detail as I could remember. I didn't panic – I guess that was one of the things that had happened to me since we got into the war. Panic was a reaction that could get people hurt.

As the EMTs loaded Tom onto the ambulance, I quietly asked one of them if I could ride with him. The guy I asked gave me an appraising look. I guess he figured if I hadn't freaked out by now, I probably wouldn't. I got into the back of the truck with them, and the driver took off, sirens blasting. I could hear him on the radio, presumably calling ahead to the hospital. "One male, seventeen years old, discovered unconscious at scene. Pupils dilated, unresponsive. Possible stroke - please prepare EKG for arrival. ETA six minutes."

"Vitals are strong," said the paramedic in the back with me and Tom to the driver. "I can't find anything physically wrong with him. Pupils are shrinking back to normal, too."

By the time he said "normal," Tom's eyes fluttered open by themselves. He looked around groggily, locked on to me, and said, "Jake?"

Now, I can't tell you how I knew. But I _knew_. This was Tom that spoke to me, not the Yeerk. I grabbed his hand. "Yeah. Hold tight, we're almost to the hospital." I wanted to say more, so much more, but the paramedic was right beside me. He seemed like a good guy, but then again, most controllers did.

"Jake, I -" Tom started to say, then his facial features contorted. He looked like a madman – every muscle in his face was moving independently. The paramedic didn't miss it, either.

"What the -" he said. Before he could finish, Tom sat upright. "What happened?" he asked, but there was no confusion in his voice. My heart sank – just as sure as I'd been that it had been Tom before, I was just as sure that it was the Yeerk now.

The paramedic tried to push him back into a lying position. "Take it easy, buddy, take it easy," he said as Tom resisted him.

"No, I'm fine," Tom argued. He suddenly grabbed the EMT's wrist and shoved it off of him. "Let me go, I'm fine."

"You are _not _fine, Tom," I told him. "You had some sort of seizure in the kitchen. You were out cold for almost twenty minutes. They need to make sure nothing's wrong with you."

Tom nodded thoughtfully, but he continued to wrestle with the EMT. He was getting more violent, even though his tone remained even. "Well, I'm okay, now. Let me go!" he said sharply, and the shocked paramedic did. He quickly regained his composure.

"Now, you listen to me," he said forcefully. "When we arrived on scene and found you unconscious, your brother gave us permission to treat you. That means, until the doctors let you go, you do as you're told. Got it?"

Tom sneered. "I'm not unconscious anymore, and I'm refusing treatment. Pull this ambulance over and let me out."

"No chance, pal," the driver called back. "Settle down, we're almost there."

Tom didn't respond, just unsnapped himself from the gurney and ripped off all of the electrodes they'd hooked up to his chest. "Hey!" I protested. I knew the Yeerk was getting desperate. He could not let anybody scan Tom's brain. I tried to reason with him, like it was still my brother in control. "Just do what they say, Tom! You need help. I'm serious."

"Frank, this guy's about to lose it back here," the EMT in the back warned the driver.

"We're here, Steve," Frank said, and sure enough, he came to a stop. Steve looked relieved and popped the doors. I could see a small team of doctors and nurses waiting at the back of the ambulance.

Tom didn't pay them any attention. He hopped out of the ambulance and started walking away from them, quickly. Frank got out, and I heard one of the doctors ask him if Tom was the patient.

"He _was_," Frank said. "Now he's refusing treatment and getting violent with us."

The two doctors looked at each other. The one on the right shrugged. "It's his body," he said.

"No, it's not!" I wanted to yell. "It's not his body at all!"

What I _did_ say was, "Can't you do anything? Force him to get some tests? I mean, he was bad off at my house."

The doctor looked at me sympathetically. He could see that I was really worried. "That's really up to you. If you think he's acting like this because of his condition, then you can file an order of non-compliance. We'll have to get the cops involved, but we can make him come back and get the tests."

I considered for a short moment. I _wanted _to force him back, for the doctors to find the slug wrapped around his brain. But at the same time, I thought that it might be for the best this way. Even if the doctors weren't controllers, and even if they could remove the Yeerk from Tom, I was sure the Yeerks wouldn't take it lying down. They couldn't afford the exposure. The simple solution would be either to re-infest Tom, or flat-out kill him.

"I guess not," I said reluctantly. "He _sounded_ okay, after he woke up." The staff went back into the emergency room and left me alone with my thoughts.

What to do? I wanted to go after Tom, to make sure he was going to be okay. At the same time, I wanted to find out exactly what the hell had happened to him. Something had affected both Tom and the Yeerk simultaneously. The only thing I could think of was the fork in the microwave – Tom had stopped responding as soon as he'd turned it on. I looked around, saw what I needed, and jogged across the highway. I slipped onto a loading dock behind a furniture store. It was sheltered from view, and there was no one back there. I stripped off my outer layer of clothes and stuffed them inside of an old bureau, praying they'd be there when I got back. My mom was already wondering how I was managing to lose so many clothes. I concentrated on the peregrine falcon's DNA that was inside of me, and the changes began.

Morphing is bizarre to the max. You'd think it'd be a smooth progression, since it was the pinnacle of Andalite technology. The change is anything _but _smooth.

The hairs on my legs melted and spread out to form a hard, scaly covering. The talons popped out of the ends of my toes. My upper body shrank while my lower body was busy changing in other ways. My head got smaller, but the only way I could tell was the way my eyes felt pressure as they lagged behind the shrinking process. Finally, everything got in synch and I became more proportionate.

I was almost totally falcon before the feathers started growing. I looked like a live, plucked chicken. Thirty seconds later, the transformation was complete. There was no wind in the enclosed loading dock, so I had to flap frantically to get into the air. Once I did, I found a tailwind and a thermal and I shot away from the furniture store like an arrow from a bow.

I pointed myself southeast, heading for the forest. I needed answers, and there was only one person I knew that might have any. And so I went to pay our resident Andalite a visit.


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note – Hi! Glad you're coming along on another adventure with me. Check it – I plan to get several chapters up in the next couple of days. That way, you guys will have a good idea where this fic is going and what it's all about. After that, though, update speed is up to you. The more reviews I get, the faster I work. It's all up to you! Enjoy.

Chapter 3

It wasn't technically on the way, as the crow (or falcon, in this case) flies, but I buzzed Tobias' meadow on the way to Ax's scoop. For one, Tobias was the one member of the Animorphs I could almost always find in the same place. Red-tailed hawks are extremely territorial, and for good reason. The balancing act of the predator/prey dynamic was a constant concern to Tobias – he hadn't just lost his human body, he'd lost his position on the top of the food chain. Within the confines of his own meadow, he was one of the apex predators, and he wanted to keep it that way.

I didn't see him as I flew through, but he saw me. (What's up, Jake?) he called out.

(Had a bit of an episode with Tom earlier,) I explained. (I'm on the way to ask Ax about it, and I thought you might want to come along.)

(Pretty day to fly,) he said, as if that was all the answer I needed. I finally spotted him as he left the core of a half-dead tree.

I spent the trip to Ax's temporary home explaining what had happened. Tobias was just as confused as to what it meant as I was. He seemed to think the microwave was a coincidence – he pointed out that controllers used them all the time, and nothing happened. We got to the area where Ax's scoop was, and even with my fantastic falcon eyes, it took a moment to find it. He'd done a great job of camouflaging it from the air.

We skimmed down to find Ax inside of the scoop, reading a magazine. Car and Driver. (Hello, Tobias. Hello, Prince Jake,) he said as we both landed and I began to demorph. Andalite superiors are called Princes. Since I was more or less the leader of our little group, Ax insisted on the title.

(What's up, Ax-man?) Tobias replied. (Good read?) he asked of the magazine. Ax shook his head, like he did when he disapproved of something.

(Vehicles that rely on chemical combustion. You humans do some dangerous things. Although, I do admit, the styling of these vehicles is quite attractive.)

As I finished up my demorph, I said, "I need your help understanding something. Tom had a seizure this morning, and when he came out of it, he had control of his body for a split second. I think it might have had something to do with my microwave – he forgot to take the fork off of the plate, and as soon as it started sparking, he went down. Maybe it was just a coincidence, I don't know. Does that ever just happen, sometimes? The Yeerk and the host both losing control?"

Ax's main eyes narrowed. (No. The Yeerk control is absolute. As a matter of fact, physically, the Yeerk is beneficial to the brain of most species. Conditions such as brain tumors or aneurisms are detected and repaired by the Yeerk in order to preserve their host.)

(So maybe the microwave _did _cause it,) Tobias speculated.

Ax looked confused. (What is this "microwave?") he asked.

"It's a small oven that runs off of electricity. We use it to cook with," I told him.

(So it is a heat-emitting device?) he asked.

I felt kind of embarrassed – how does it look to an alien when you can't explain your own technology? "I'm not exactly sure. I don't think so," I said. Tobias didn't know, either.

(Wait a moment,) Ax said as he went to a stack of books in the corner. (Aha,) he said as he found what he was looking for. He pulled out a science textbook and scanned the index. He flipped to the page he wanted, going on and on about how much more superior books were than computers. He quickly read a passage and set the book down.

(You humans will never cease to amaze me. You ride around in combustible bombs, yet you have already discovered _n_-wave technology. And you only use it for heating food,) he said, as if the whole thing was amazing-yet-funny.

(What the heck is _n_-wave technology?) Tobias asked.

(It is a matter-specific form of radiation - _n_-wave refers to radiation that affects only H2O molecules. If your scientists focused on the nuances of _n_-wave technology, your "energy crisis" would be over in one Earth year. And you use it to heat meals,) he laughed. I ignored the implied insult as he picked the book back up and read a little more. (Amazing. Humans make the easiest things so complicated.)

I was getting impatient. "Um, Ax, when you're done busting on the human race, can you get to the point?" I asked.

He focused all four of his eyes on me, and that really got my attention. Ax hardly _ever_ did that. (Forks are metal eating utensils, I know. What metal are they made from?)

I looked at Tobias. "Stainless steel, I think?" Tobias confirmed it.

Ax grabbed a pen and a notebook, and started scribbling out equations. At least I think they were equations – I understood about as much of what he was writing than I understood Japanese. (Yes!) he exulted.

"What?" I practically yelled at the same time as Tobias.

(Prince Jake, the primitive nature of your _n_-wave particle emitters – microwaves – and its reactivity with steel creates a unique flux in the radiation.) I guess he caught the lost look on my face, because he simplified. A little. (When Tom put the steel in the microwave, it reflected a slightly altered, unique radiation onto him. This radiation is of the exact specificity to break down the neurological connection between the Yeerk and the human brain. You saw this when the Yeerk lost control of Tom's body. The connection was not completely severed from this small dose of the radiation – only temporarily disrupted.)

(So, what?) Tobias asked. (We need to go around and sneak forks into controllers' microwaves?)

Ax shot him a look. (No. That would only have the same result that Prince Jake saw today – the temporary loss of control. I can use the theory to build a weapon. A weapon that will disconnect the Yeerks from the brains they inhabit. I can make a weapon that will render the Yeerks powerless inside of their hosts.)


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

"So basically, what you're saying is that you can build a gun that will kill a Yeerk, but not the body it's in," Marco said incredulously.

It had taken almost two hours, but we'd found the rest of the Animorphs and gotten them together in Cassie's barn. Usually we don't let Ax hang out in the barn in his Andalite form, in case Cassie's parents came out. But Cassie's mom was in bed, sick, and her dad was filling in for her at the Gardens. Just in case, Tobias was up in his usual perch, watching for any sign that we might be interrupted. I felt like we needed Ax in his own body, because in human form, he was just way too easily distracted. I needed him focused, not trying to eat hay or playing with words and sounds.

(No,) Ax said. (Not a gun. It would be a spherical radiation emitter. The technology to channel the radiation in a single direction exists, but I am not an engineer.) He sounded defensive, the way he got when he felt like he didn't know something he should have. (And it will not kill a Yeerk. It will only destroy the connection it has with the host's brain.)

"Either way, this is huge," Rachel said. "Would it be practical? Is it something we can carry around and use?"

(I am not sure of the exact dimensions – I will need to examine the components before I can say. Based on the size an Andalite device would be and the common ratio between Andalite and human technology, it will probably be about the size of the metal box most humans mount on a post in front of their homes.)

"The size of a mailbox," I said. "That's big, but not unmanageable."

"How long would it take you to build?" Marco asked eagerly. Like me, he could see the enormous potential a weapon like this would have. The advantage it would give us.

(Not long. All the components I need exist, and they're fairly common. It will be a matter of disassembling an _n_-wave emitter, and then rebuilding it to project the specific radiation,) Ax answered.

"And this device wouldn't be any risk to the humans it hit?" Cassie asked.

Ax hesitated. (Directly? No, no risk at all. But bad things can happen when connections in the brain are abruptly broken. It will probably be harmless to the host. But I cannot say for certain without a field test.)

Cassie looked uncomfortable. "I don't know, guys. Can we really go around inventing technology and using people as guinea pigs?"

"Uh, yeah," Marco said, like even questioning it was stupid. "We absolutely can. We need every edge we can get – we are not going to even _consider _the possibility of not trying this." He looked around as if daring anyone to dispute him.

"Chill," I said mildly. Marco has a tendency to get worked up when people threw morality into a do-or-don't discussion. I gave Cassie an apologetic look. "I don't see any way we can ignore this. This might just be the advantage we've been looking for."

"So let's get going," Rachel said impatiently. "Ax can tell us what he needs, and we'll go get it."

(I would have to go with you to purchase the items. I don't know what some of the objects would be called in your language. Obviously, I'll need an _n_-wave particle generator – I mean, a microwave,) he said with a hint of smug humor. He then listed several other components.

Marco's face fell a little. "You just described like three hundred bucks worth of stuff. Anybody got that kind of dough?" Nobody said anything. We were teenagers – of _course _we didn't have that much money lying around. He looked at me, like I was going to resist whatever he was about to say. "We can't let money get in the way, Jake. We need it, and we need it now. If it were up to me, I'd just have Rachel morph an elephant and stomp an ATM."

"Good thing it's not up to you," I told him before Rachel could agree with him. "We are not going to start robbing ATMs, I don't care what the reason is. We'll get the money some other way."

(How?) Tobias asked. (We could all fly around the city and pick up spare change, but it could take weeks to get three hundred dollars together.) I didn't answer him, because I didn't _know_. All I knew was that we were not going to use the power Elfangor gave us to become criminals.

"I can help. I have savings," Cassie said quietly. I felt a wave of emotion for the girl – she might not have believed in the reason we needed it, but she was going to offer her money for the cause anyway.

"Cassie, we can't take that. You work hard for it," I told her, and it was true. Her parents gave her a pretty nice allowance, but if you factored in the all the work she did, it didn't even come close to minimum wage. "You're saving that for college."

She smiled at me. "That's sweet of you, Jake," she said, and ignored Marco's gagging noise. "But if we don't do anything about the Yeerks, none of us are going to be going to college. My money is your money." Rachel looked about as uncomfortable with it as I felt.

Marco, being Marco, was totally fine with it. "Cool, Cassie. Thanks. Hey, while we're at the mall, you think you can get me the new Alkaline Trio CD, too?" Rachel was closer to him than I was – that was why she got to smack him in the head.

I checked the clock on the wall of the barn. "All right, guys, it's getting close to dinnertime. Unless anybody's got an objection, I say we go home for now. We'll get everything together and take a trip to the mall tomorrow. Cool?" Everybody seemed to be good with it. "All right. See you here, first thing in the morning."

As we left to go our separate ways, Marco trailed behind. He didn't think anyone was in earshot, but I heard him say to Cassie, "That is beyond cool of you to spend your savings. If it takes a year, I'll save my allowance to help pay you back." I smiled as I left, marveling at how grown up we were all becoming. Even Marco, try as he might to resist it.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

My first stop on my way home was the furniture store. I demorphed in private, and thankfully my clothes and shoes were still where I left them. I dressed quickly and started walking home, trying to get there ahead of nightfall.

I was optimistic. Upbeat. It wasn't every day that we learned we might have a leg-up on the Yeerks. Matter of fact, most days I was so paranoid that I thought I might be going crazy. Knowing that anybody you encounter is a potential controller will do that to you. Knowing that, on any given day, several aliens are looking at you, thinking, "How do we get him, too?" makes you edgy. Never being able to relax is exhausting.

As I walked down my street, I could see Tom in the driveway. He was shooting hoops, something I hadn't seen him do in months. A surge of hope hit me. '_Maybe the microwave _did _disable the Yeerk!_' I thought fiercely. The more rational part of me killed that hope almost immediately. If Tom were suddenly free, would he go out into the driveway first thing and start playing basketball by himself?

He didn't say anything right away, trying to make it seem like wasn't waiting on me, I guess. He tossed me the ball when I got to the edge of the driveway, like nothing was wrong. I took a jump shot and missed by a mile. Tom laughed.

"No wonder you didn't make the team," he teased as he went after the ball. He retrieved it and walked back to me. I didn't say anything – I had a good idea what was coming.

"So hey, little brother," he started. "I know that you got really freaked earlier, but I'm fine. Really. There's no reason to worry mom and dad with this. It was just a fainting spell, you know? Nothing to get worked up over."

I had already made the decision not to tell my parents. Letting Tom go on as he was was really the lesser of two evils. I couldn't draw any attention to him, as bad as I wanted to. The Yeerks are practical, if nothing else. If they decided Tom had too much heat on him, they'd get rid of him. I knew enough about them to be certain of it. But I still had to play my part of a guy concerned about his big brother.

"I don't know, Tom," I said, putting doubt in my tone. "It looked like more than a fainting spell to me. Are you sure you shouldn't get checked out, just to be sure?"

He grinned and suddenly dropped to the concrete, doing push-ups. "Healthy. As. A. Horse," he said each word as he did another rep. He got up. "Seriously, man. Don't stress the folks over this. You know they'll make a huge deal out of it and spend a ton of time and money on me that is totally unnecessary."

I appeared to consider. "Well, if you say so," I said doubtfully. "You _do _seem fairly normal. For a weird-o like you, anyway."

He smiled in relief. "Thanks, Jake. You wanna play a game?" he asked, spinning the ball on his finger. It may sound strange to you, but I _did_ want to play. It reminded me of a time when Tom was normal, I knew nothing about any alien invasion, and the most stressful thing in my life was the next pop quiz. We shot hoops and traded good-natured insults until my mom yelled at us to come in and eat.

The next morning, I got up to my alarm at seven o'clock. Before the war, waking up that early on a Sunday would have been blasphemous to me. Now, I was just grateful I'd gotten a good night's sleep, and no one had woken me up with some new crisis. As I got dressed, I grabbed the forty-one bucks I'd managed to save up over the last couple of months. I wasn't about to let Cassie shoulder the entire project. I went downstairs, where my parents were sitting at the kitchen table. They did that every Sunday morning – just hung out in the kitchen, my mom watching the tiny TV on the counter, my dad reading the paper, both of them sipping coffee. It was their time to be with each other – something familiar and comforting that they could look forward to every week.

"Jake-O!" my dad said. "What are you doing up so early?"

Before I could answer, my mom said, "Honey, if I'd have known you were going to be up, I'd have made you breakfast. You want some waffles?"

"Nah. I'll take a pop-tart with me. Me and Marco are going to the mall," I said.

"The mall doesn't open for another two hours," she said skeptically.

I couldn't tell her that we needed that time to prepare a list of items we needed to build a device to disable Yeerks. I couldn't tell her I had to drill Ax on acting human a few more times before we took him in public. "I know," I lied. "We were going to go down to the boardwalk first. You know Marco – he wants to watch the girls on their morning jog before we hit the arcade."

"Hormones," my dad said knowingly, as if that one word explained all of our weird behavior.

"Speaking of hormones, where's your brother?" my mom asked me.

"Huh? How would I know?" I replied, maybe a little too defensively.

"I just thought he might have said something to you. He was gone when I woke up an hour ago," my mom said.

"Hormones," my dad repeated. "He's probably at the boardwalk, too." My mom laughed, and they dropped it.

"Thanks," I said as I took the pop-tart my mom was holding out for me. "Be back this afternoon."

I walked down the street to the bus stop and waited for the bus that would bring me closest to Cassie's farm. Twenty minutes later, I was in the Wildlife Rehabilitation Center, also known as Cassie's barn.

I was the last to arrive. It seemed like everyone was as fired up as I was over the possibility of our new weapon. We all felt like we were "Finally going to play some offense," as Rachel said. We worked out what we'd need to buy in a few short minutes, and "passed the plate," as Marco put it, gathering up our collective cash. We'd managed to scrounge half of what we needed – Cassie supplied the rest. We spent the next hour drilling Ax. "Don't eat cigarette butts. Don't just randomly throw things. Don't take anything without paying for it. Say what you want to say, and stop – don't keep playing with sounds." These were things we went over with him every time. It wasn't like he was being difficult on purpose, he just got overwhelmed. Especially with the sense of taste – that boy would commit felony murder for a Cinnabon.

Tobias wished us good luck as Marco, Ax, and I walked to the bus stop. He was going to sit out – going into public was still strange for Tobias, as if it were a new experience for him. The girls would take the next bus and keep an eye on us from a distance, just in case. We did everything possible to not appear as a group too often. As we boarded the bus, Ax stopped in front of the driver.

"Greetings. I need a token to ride this bus. Here is the required token," he said as he held it out for the driver. The driver rolled his eyes as if to say, 'Freaks already today?' and pointed to the box. Ax dropped his token in and took his seat.

"You see, Prince Jake? I am behaving as a normal human would," he said with a hint of pride. We were the only ones on the bus, but I still reminded him not to call me Prince, and not to call attention to the fact that he was anything other but a normal human. We made it to the mall without incident.

As he had the last time we'd brought him to Radio Shack, Ax acted like a kid in a candy store. He could barely contain himself as he described the high-tech components as primitive versions of his own species'. He handed Marco and I things off the shelf, and stood by quietly as we paid for them. "He _is _getting better," Marco whispered to me. "There's an Auntie Anne's right there, and he hasn't made a break for it once."

Next stop, Sears. We used the remaining cash to buy the cheapest microwave we could find. Ax assured us it would do the job. As we waited for the bus that would take us back to Cassie's, a cop drove by in his squad car. I saw him look at us suspiciously, and then he pulled in, parking in front of the fire lane.

"Crap," Marco whispered. "He's coming. Act natural. Ax, just be quiet. Don't talk unless he talks directly to you."

"Morning, boys," the cop said. He sounded pleasant, but his eyes were narrowed in plain suspicion.

"Hi, officer," I said as breezily as I could. "Can we help you?"

He seemed to be thinking of what to say next. "I don't know. I just haven't ever seen boys your age out buying a microwave. You did pay for that, right?" he asked, as if maybe he had figured out _why _he was suspicious.

"Of course," Marco said. He pulled the receipt out of his pocket and handed it to the cop. The cop shrugged and handed it back, and seemed like he was about to leave. I guess he thought Ax was staring at him a little too hard, with something that looked a little too much like fear.

"What's your name, son?" he asked, his mistrust returning with full force.

Ax didn't say anything, so I nudged him with my elbow. "My name is Phillip. I am Jake's cousin. I am from out of town. I am a fifteen year old male. I am totally normal."

Me and Marco didn't dare breathe. Marco gave me a wild look that said, '_Why couldn't he just stop at the word Phillip?_'

The cop scratched his head. "Are you on something?" he asked.

"Yes," Ax replied. "I am on what is referred to as a bench. It is like a chair, but longer." Marco's face turned purple.

Now the cop just looked confused. "Are you getting smart with me?"

"No. I am only as intelligent as a normal human."

"Ha ha!" Marco all but screamed. "Sir, he's really not getting an attitude. He has a…learning disability. He's a savant. You know, like Rainman?"

Amazingly, it worked. The cop scratched his head again. "If you say so. You boys stay out of trouble. And keep an eye on him," he said, pointing at Ax. "He's acting weird." He walked away, and Marco noisily exhaled.

Before he could yell at Ax, I calmed him down. "Relax. He's gone, Marco. Ax did about as well as we could have expected."

As the bus pulled up, Ax said smugly, "Yes. I did not play with a mouth-noise once. Unce."


	6. Chapter 6

Author's Note – Initial reviews/readers ratio is really sucky. I just gotta say, I am _so _disappointed with most of the people on this site. It used to be a place where you could get lots of constructive feedback on your work. Now it seems like I have to beg to get the few reviews I actually do get. Thanks, Iris129. The device doesn't kill Yeerks, it just stops them from controlling their host. Doesn't matter – I'm just glad you're reading and you care enough to review. Thanks to everyone else who reviews in the future, too – if I finish this, it'll be because of you.

Chapter 6

I got home a little earlier than I expected, and I was looking forward to a nice, relaxing afternoon on the couch. I barely ever just got to lounge around the house anymore. Maybe you think I'm selfish for being lazy while people were being enslaved. Well, let me tell you something. If you've never been trying to resist an undercover alien invasion in your off-time while you were a full-time student, you have no idea how necessary those little breaks can be.

Not that I could get one. When I walked into my house, I could hear Tom in the kitchen with my parents. He sounded excited, and my spirits fell. It seemed like the only time Tom got excited anymore was when I was about to have to get _really _busy. I decided to get it over with and find out what he was so amped about.

"Hey guys," I said to my parents and Tom. "What's the good news?"

Tom gave me a look I couldn't easily decipher. "Not that you'd care, but the Sharing is in for some big changes. Good changes."

I felt my gut go cold. Big things for the Sharing equaled big things for the Yeerks. "Well? What are these 'big changes?'" I asked, trying not to sound grumpy.

"Going international," Tom said with the biggest grin I'd ever seen. "You knew we were statewide. We're taking steps to expand to three more states, as well as four new countries. We're going to blow up. I'm talking ten times the size we are now inside of a month."

"Your brother was named a project manager," my mom told me. She sounded happy about it, but I thought the enthusiasm was a little fake. Maybe she thought that a teenager who cared so much about some club committed to helping others was a little fishy. Maybe she just wondered what could possibly be so great about it, that it would cause my brother to spend all of his time there. Especially when in every other area of his life, he seemed like a normal, self-centered high schooler.

"That's right," he exulted. "They selected _me _to be in charge for recruiting for the in-state chapter, because they're going to be moving a lot of people around. I'm really good at it." He frowned. "Except when it comes to you, of course."

"Well, congratulations," I said, trying not to sound as glum as I felt.

"We're all going to the expansion ceremony next weekend," my dad said.

"That's right," Tom said again. "Everybody's going to be there. All the representatives from the other states _and _the other countries. Not to mention Mr. Trent." He said this last name with a bit of reverence, and I had a vague suspicion I'd heard this name before.

"Who is Mr. Trent?" I asked, trying to sound casual.

"Oh, so _now _you're interested," he mocked. I didn't say anything. "Victor Trent is the godfather of the modern Sharing. Anyway, dad, I was telling you how the Sharing is a non-profit. Well, they're incorporating to manage the spread. The general public will be able to invest by buying stocks in the company. All the books will be open – buying stock will make people money while they're also helping others. Isn't that awesome?"

"Sounds like a decent idea," my dad said cautiously. If he was thinking along the same line as me, it sounded like Tom was throwing a sales pitch. Tom was too smart to go after my dad's wallet just yet, though.

Tom shot me another look. "Anyway, I've got a ton of work to do before next weekend. See you guys at dinner," he said, bolting upstairs to his room.

When he was out of the kitchen, my mom and dad exchanged a look. A slightly worried look. Tom wasn't exactly acting out of character, but the real Tom would have never been so pumped about some club. My parents had caught that. They couldn't find anything exactly _wrong _with it, but they couldn't find anything _right _with it, either. I went upstairs myself, a lot more troubled than I'd been a few moments ago.

I tried to work on some homework I was behind on, but I couldn't focus. I kept thinking about what it meant that the Sharing was going international. Obviously, they weren't tapped out of hosts here, yet. There was no way everyone was already a controller. Maybe they were just trying to spread their forces around, like a game of Risk. I couldn't figure out what their motive was, and it worried me.

It almost didn't matter what they were up to, though. I was coming to see the war in a different light. It was more like a chess match than a street fight. You made your own moves for two different reasons – to put yourself in an advantageous position, or you tried to block your opponent from gaining an advantage. Letting the Sharing get away with this would be like letting my opponent get my king in check. I couldn't allow it. I would have to put a piece in his way and block him.

The only problem with that was when you put your piece out there like that, there was a good chance the enemy would take it down. And in our case, we _were_ the chess piece I was going to have to put in their way.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

I rolled over to look at my alarm clock. It read _3:42 AM. _I groaned and sat up in bed.

No way I was going to be able to sleep. I was just too stressed out. There were too many variables in the equation right now. Too many unknowns.

I was tired of this reactive fighting, as I'd come to think of it. All we ever did was find out what the Yeerks were up to, and then we tried to stop them. There was no way we could win like that. I'd thought we were holding our ground, at least, but this expansion of the Sharing was proof to the contrary. From the beginning, we'd had pretty much the same philosophy toward the war – the Yeerks pushed, we pushed back. But how were we supposed to push back when the Yeerks were taking their leaps forward in Peru, or Zimbabwe?

We were five kids and an alien against an entire army. At no time had this been more apparent to me than right now. The idea of the Yeerks operating halfway across the world, where we couldn't touch them, was maddening to me. The idea was utterly overwhelming.

I toyed with the idea of morphing owl and going for a night flight, but quickly rejected it. What would happen if my parents decided to check on me for some reason? More lying. The people I needed to rely on the most right now were people I had to be careful of. It made me feel very, very alone. It made me feel dangerously close to despair. The only thing that kept me from falling apart was imagining the others, my friends, feeling this exact same way. I had to be the strong one. I had to be the one person they could trust, and rely on, and support them. If I couldn't hold it together, no matter what, we'd all fall apart. I knew this instinctively.

I thought of our new venture, the one Marco had dubbed "Project Microwave." Not even Ax could say if it would work for sure, but he thought that it might. A maybe was better than nothing. I'd take a maybe right now, take it and be thankful. The idea that we might be able to free a dozen people at once from Yeerk control gave me sudden hope. How could the Yeerks keep things covered up when a dozen people were all telling the same story, that the Yeerks were here? How could they keep fifty people quiet? A hundred? If we could get this to work, the secret war could be over inside of a week.

I say the secret war, because at that point, open war would begin. I wasn't ignorant. The Yeerks were invested here. They wouldn't go without a fight. We might have them outnumbered, but their technology would sure even things up. People would die. But you know what? I was tired of lying and sneaking and being scared of my own shadow. I was ready for the gloves to come off. I wanted a straight-up throw-down with the Yeerks. It felt like those damn slugs were destroying my very _sanity_.

I sighed. Now I was way too worked up to sleep. I went downstairs, got in my dad's La-Z-Boy, and turned on the TV. I put some old western show on and zoned out.

"Jake? That you?" I started and turned around to see my dad standing there.

"Dad. Sorry if I woke you up," I told him, but he didn't look like he'd been sleeping, either.

"No, I was awake," he said. "Couldn't sleep either?"

I shook my head. He sat down on the couch, two feet away from me. He seemed to have something he wanted to say. "Jake…look…you know, you can always talk to me, right? I mean, if something's bothering you, if something's wrong, you can tell me. I'd keep it between the two of us. I wouldn't even tell your mom, if you didn't want me to."

That terrible suspicion crept in. I _hated _it. I wanted to trust my dad so bad that it hurt. I wanted to tell him everything, and I almost didn't even care if he were a controller. It would have almost been a relief if he were. Because the way I felt right then, I just wanted it to be over. One way or the other, I just wanted it to be _over_.

I didn't tell him, for a few reasons. Two things would happen if I did. If he were a controller, he would either kill me or make a controller out of me, too. Best case scenario, he was still my dad, and he'd have me committed to a mental hospital. Because the stuff I'd seen and done, the stuff I wanted to talk about, did not exist in a normal person's world. It was _crazy_.

Even if there was the slightest chance that he would believe me, and that we could run away right that second, and go somewhere the Yeerks weren't happening…even if that were possible, I still wouldn't do it. Because it wasn't just me. I would _never_ abandon my friends. Keeping them safe was the only thing more important to me than my own sanity.

What I actually said to my dad was, "No, I'm cool. Just a little insomnia. Why?"

My dad sighed, and seemed to be having his own internal conflict over what to say to me. "It's just…Jake, sometimes it just seems like there's something going on in your life. Something huge. You hide it well – if you weren't my son, I'd think you were a happy, healthy, well-adjusted teenager. Maybe I'm just paranoid and that's exactly what you are. But sometimes, I can't help thinking you've got a secret. You seem too old, sometimes. You seem like you've got the weight of the world on you."

I swear, I almost broke down. My dad had hit it right on the head. He was trying to talk me into telling him. He was trying to talk me into doing something I already wanted to do. I was like a heroin addict, and my dad was holding out the needle to me with his blessing to shoot up.

I have no idea how I kept my voice level as I said, "I don't know, dad. Maybe I _do _feel like school is a little much, sometimes. You know I have to work harder than Tom to get decent grades. Maybe I try to make it look easier than it is. I don't know."

My dad looked disappointed, as if he knew I was weaseling away from the real issue. But my dad is a good-hearted guy. He wasn't going to make me do anything. If I did have a secret, he wasn't going to force it out of me.

"Okay," he said heavily. "Yeah, maybe that's it. But look…I know you're not into anything bad, Jake. I know who you are. I know you're a good person. So if you ever have anything you want to tell me, anything at all, I swear I won't judge you. I just need you to know that I'm here if you need me." I nodded numbly, and he patted my knee as he left to go back to bed. I bit my lip to hold back the tears. As he rounded the corner to the stairs, he said, "I love you, buddy. Good night, Jake." And it was all I could do to wait until I heard his bedroom door shut to let the tears fall.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

I woke up to the smell of coffee. I opened my eyes, expecting to see my bedroom, and instead I saw the TV of the living room. Ah, so that explained why I was feeling all cramped up – I'd fallen asleep in the chair. The TV had some infomercial on, but it was muted, so that explained why my mom hadn't woken me up yet. She didn't know I was in the living room.

Before I could get up to sneak to my room, my dad walked in, knotting his tie as he walked. I started to get up, but my father put his finger to his lips, motioning me to stay quiet. A minute later, my mom called, "All right, Steve, I'm off to the meeting. Make sure the boys get up." My dad went to the kitchen, and I heard them exchange good-byes. The front door closed, and my dad re-entered the living room.

"What's up, dad?" I asked. I was still waking up, but anything out of the ordinary was usually bad in my world. So what my dad said surprised me pretty good.

"Nothing. I just think you need a day off. No responsibilities. Sit around. Watch some daytime TV trash. Eat junk food. I don't care. But you don't need to go to school today."

I stared. This was definitely a first. "Let me get this straight," I said. "You're asking me to skip school?"

"No, I'm _telling _you to skip school. Like I said, you need a day off. I don't know what you need it off from, and it's none of my business. But I'd be a pretty crappy dad if I ignored it. So, doctor's orders. No school today." He ruffled my hair as he went by. "Tom!" he bellowed up the stairs. "Get up! Bus gets here in twenty minutes! And leave your brother alone – he's sick today!" He winked at me, then he was out the door, too.

I heard the shower turn on upstairs. I ran through the conversation I'd just had with my dad in my head – it was a habit I'd gotten into. One of the crazy things I did now. I tried to think if there had been any deception in my dad's words, any hint that he might know something was up. I couldn't think of one. He'd seemed genuinely concerned about me last night, and was just doing something nice for me.

A few minutes later, Tom walked into the living room. "You don't look sick to me," he accused. I shrugged. "Whatever," Tom said. "Don't snoop through my stuff while I'm at school." He left, and I had the house to myself.

Briefly, I thought of going through Tom's room anyway, but then decided against it. I'd done it before, and I didn't find anything out of the ordinary. Besides, I didn't even know what I was looking for. Proof? I had all the proof I needed that he was a controller. I could have gone to my parents with a videotape of the Yeerk leaving Tom's head, and it wouldn't have done any good. It was better to leave his stuff alone, Marco had warned me. I had asked him why, and he acted like an expert.

"Counter-espionage, dude. Tradecraft. You know – leaving the closet door open exactly three-quarters of an inch? Putting a hair in the crack of a drawer so it falls out if anybody opens it?"

I had stared blankly at him. "Where do you _learn _this stuff? How does your brain contain all this useless garbage?"

"Tom Clancy. And it's not useless – this 'garbage' might have saved your life," he'd told me earnestly.

I unmuted the TV and found a show on the History channel. It was about Hitler's SS, the secret police. I never could have watched it if my mom were home – we were Jewish, and she would have flipped out. But it was extremely informative. My friends and I were a lot like Anne Frank, with one major difference. We were hiding from the Nazis in the attic, but we didn't stop there. We also snuck out at night and fought back under the cover of darkness. It was a dangerous game – not to diminish her bravery, but definitely more dangerous than what Anne went through. I felt a pride in myself at the thought – there were always going to be people like my friends and I. Freedom fighters. You could trace our lineage back through history. The fathers of the American Revolution. The Freedom Riders, whites who risked their lives to help slaves escape the South. There were always people who stood up against oppression. I was proud to be one of them.

I guess I fell asleep again. When I woke up, it was almost one in the afternoon. I puttered around the house, but I started to feel isolated. I needed to get out into the world. I needed wings.

Ten minutes later, I was soaring high above the interstate. It was a sunny day, and the thermals were blasting off of the blacktop like you would not believe. On days like this, I envied Tobias. He got to do this every day. On the other hand, I slept in a bed, relatively safe. Tobias spent his nights trying to sleep, one eye open for predators. I doubt if it was an even trade-off.

I floated a half a mile up for about a half an hour, then I decided to check Ax's progress with our "Yeerk Zapper," as Marco called it. When I had found his scoop, I called down so I wouldn't surprise him. (Ax! Is it okay if I come down?)

(Please,) he said easily. I dropped into a stoop that reached almost two hundred miles an hour. I couldn't help yelling in pure delight as I pulled out of it and perched lightly on a fallen log. Ax waited until I was demorphed to ask me what I was doing. (Forgive me, but shouldn't you be in school?)

"Yeah, but I took the day off," I said, not knowing how he would take that. Andalites can be pretty fanatical about their sense of duty.

(Everyone deserves a rest,) he allowed. (Come to check on the progress of the emitter?) I noticed there were parts scatter throughout his scoop. It looked as if several household appliances had exploded.

"Yeah," I said. "Looks like you're still in the deconstruction phase."

(Yes. I will begin assembly soon. Within a few days, it will be ready. As ready as I can make it with the available equipment,) he amended. He seemed to consider something. (Prince Jake, I do not wish for you to doubt me. I just want to make sure you are aware of all aspects of this project. I cannot promise it will behave exactly as I predict. As I have said before, I am not an engineer. It may damage the Yeerk, the human, or both. It may do absolutely nothing. It may work like I think it will, and simply render the Yeerk unable to issue commands to the host. I am trying to tune unfamiliar equipment to a specific radiation wavelength. There is always a margin of error with such things.)

I nodded, letting him know I understood. "It's okay, Ax. Fighting the Yeerks isn't an exact science, either. Trial and error is all we can do. If there's even a small chance that this could work, we have to try."

He relaxed, and went back to work. I watched him for a few minutes before a question popped into my head, and it was out of my mouth before I thought about it. "Ax, you call me Prince. Is that just because I'm the one in charge? If Marco were the leader, for instance, you'd call him Prince too, right?"

He looked shocked. (No, Prince Jake! 'Prince' is not a title given to someone simply because they lead. It is what you _do _that earns you that title, what you _are_. You are smart, capable, brave under fire. You make decisions based on the parameters of the mission, not what you feel in your heart. This is not to say you are heartless – quite the opposite. You feel for those of us under your command – this is evident. In spite of that, you make hard decisions that may come back to haunt you. _That _is what makes you my Prince.) He smiled with eyes, as only an Andalite could. (If you were an Andalite, I have no doubt that you would be a full Prince, well on your way to War Prince and a large command.)

I blushed, and I was glad Ax didn't know what it meant. "Thanks, Ax. I try. And you're right – I _do _care about you guys. More than I care about myself."

He smiled again. (As I say, _that _is what gives you the rank of Prince.)

How can you not feel better with a guy like that around? Even if he _was _a big, blue alien. '_Alien is not a word that applies to Ax anymore,_' I corrected myself. '_Friend. That's what he is._' I hung out for a few more minutes, then morphed back to falcon and headed out. I had gone to Ax looking for reassurance that the device was going to work. I left with a completely unexpected, different kind of reassurance. Not to mention a renewed sense of purpose. Mentally stabilized and batteries recharged, I went in search of the others to let them know about the Sharing's plans that we were going to wreck.


	9. Chapter 9

Author's Note – I want to thank xMissyMaex, iris129, and Kaye for the reviews. They are _so_ appreciated, and the reason behind the new content. Because if it weren't for you three, I probably would have given this up as a lost cause already. Enjoy.

Chapter 9

I got to the school just as it was letting out. I spotted Marco walking toward his bus with some guys I didn't recognize. As I watched, one of the guys grabbed his stomach, laughing at something Marco had said while another guy pushed him playfully. I felt good about that – the fact that he was able to keep some friends outside of the Animorphs. It couldn't be all business, all the time. (Hey, funny guy!) I yelled down to him. I saw him jerk the tiniest bit, then discreetly look up into the sky. He saw me and gave me a little wave as he pretended to scratch his head. (Get some feathers and meet me at Ax's scoop. I have some news.) He scratch-waved again to let me know he'd heard, and changed direction from the busses to the field across from the school.

Cassie and Rachel were walking together. I repeated my message for them and saw them change course for the same field Marco had gone to. I peeled away from the school, still feeling good from my talk with Ax and the rush of flying.

When I got to Tobias' meadow, I looked in the same tree I'd seen him in the day before. I saw him before he saw me – a rarity. I watched as he zoned in on a small garden snake. He lifted his wings carefully and got airborne, trying not to make any noise as he went in for the kill. The snake never had a chance. (You're getting pretty good at that,) I said when the deed was done and he was past distraction. (Finish up with dinner and meet us at Ax's.)

(Sure thing,) he called back. He didn't stop eating his meal as he spoke, and even though it shouldn't have, it surprised me how comfortable he was becoming with his new life.

When we were all gathered outside of Ax's scoop, I said, "All right. We -"

Marco raised his hand, like he was in class. I laughed and pointed to him, as if to say _go ahead_. "First and foremost, I just want to go on record saying I think it's really lame of you to play hookey. Especially without asking me to skip, too."

"Noted," I said mildly. "Anyway, Tom's all excited. The Sharing is going international." I took a minute to let the impact of that sink in.

"We can't let that happen," Rachel said, looking slightly horrified. "No way. We need to keep them focused _here_, where we can fight them."

"You know, that could be why they're doing it," Marco said, deep in thought. "Maybe we're hurting them too bad around here, so they're going to go other places where they'll have an easier time."

(We've never attacked the Sharing, directly. We've always used it as a way to get information,) Tobias said, not exactly arguing. (For some reason, the Yeerks have decided our area is the most valuable on the planet to them. The fact that they didn't pick up and move after the first few times we hit them is kind of proof.)

Cassie looked like she'd just realized something important, and then lost it. "What is the Sharing to the Yeerks? We know it's a way they get voluntary controllers. But we also know that it's really rare that they get someone who stays cooperative with them. Could they be looking for something besides new voluntary controllers with this sudden growth?"

I nodded. Cassie's thinking was pretty much my own – I just happened to know a little more than she did. "I think that's it, exactly. What do the Yeerks need to carry out this secret invasion, other than bodies?"

"Cash," Rachel said quickly. "They have to be able to afford the things they buy here. They can't use Yeerk Dollars or Yeerk Wampum or whatever to buy shotguns and vehicles."

"Bingo," I said. "Tom was going on and on about how the Sharing is going from a non-profit organization to an incorporated business. I don't know how much difference that'll make, but -"

"Are you joking?" Marco asked me with big eyes. "Huge! That's the difference. Right now, as an NPO, all the money the Sharing makes has to be spent only on the Sharing. That's good for buying donuts and t-shirts that say "The Sharing," and maybe they can justify a company van or whatever. When they incorporate, they're going to see a huge influx of money from people who want to invest. They'll be able to spend that money however they think is going to make _more_ money. They'll be able to subsidize businesses, start branching out. In a few years, with their technology, they could be running the American financial sector."

We all looked at him. Nobody spoke. He got uncomfortable and squirmed a little, as if he realized what he'd just said was wrecking his reputation. "Look, don't tell anybody, but I pay attention in Economics. I'm going to be rich someday – I need to know how to handle that money."

"The nerd is right," Rachel said. "That's huge. We can't let it happen. We need to find out how to stop it before it gets started."

"There's an 'expansion ceremony' next weekend. Tom said that everybody who's anybody in the Sharing is going to be there." I looked at Marco. "Do you know who Victor Trent is?" He thought, then shook his head. "Tom talks about Trent like religious people talk about God. He'll be there. I don't know exactly when and where this ceremony will be held, but I'm going to find out. I'm thinking we need to hit it."

(If they appear to be unstable in any way, that would hurt their financial picture,) Tobias pointed out. (People want to be sure of something before they sink money into it.)

"Unstable how?" Rachel asked. "Like, six wild animals running loose through their ceremony?"

I smiled. "Maybe. I was thinking, what if everybody who was supposed to be in charge in the Sharing suddenly went crazy in the middle of their big event? Yelling things about aliens in their heads?"

"_That's _where you want to try the weapon?" Cassie asked. I couldn't tell if she approved or disapproved.

"Why not?" Rachel said. "If it has any effect at all, even just making them lose control for a little while like Tom, people are going to be royally freaked. They're not going to get near the Sharing."

(The emitter should be as ready as I can make it by Friday,) Ax offered. (It should be ready to go by the time this ceremony takes place.)

I looked around at everybody. I schooled my features to look grave. "You guys need to understand what this means. If this works, things are going to be set into motion. Things we won't be able to stop. The Yeerks, at some point, are going to realize that they've been outed, that there's no covering up what they're trying to do. I think when they realize that, the real fight is going to start. They're going to be snatching people without worrying about being seen. They're going to start trying to take this planet by force."

Cassie looked terrified of the possibility. Marco just looked thoughtful. Rachel actually cracked her knuckles, as if she were about to literally get into a street fight. Tobias looked fierce – but he always did. Andalites don't have many expressions that I knew of, but Ax looked determined.

"Just be ready," I told them. "There's a good chance that, after this weekend, it's going to be all-out. If this works, we are going to be some _very _busy Animorphs. We'll finally be able to look our enemy in the eye."


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

I ate dinner with Tom and my parents. My mom asked me if my throat was still sore or if I were feeling better. I raised an eyebrow at my dad, who grinned and shrugged. "My throat's fine," I answered truthfully. My dad quickly changed the subject to one of his funnier patients at work.

Tom didn't say much, but he was happy. Electric. It was like an aura he projected. It didn't put me in a bad mood like I thought it would have. It was more of an I-know-something-you-don't-know feeling that I had. The Yeerks were expecting to be making progress in their bloodless conquest next week. If our plan worked, they'd be flipped on their ear. They'd be flat-footed, stunned.

After dinner, I went to try to finish the homework I'd need for tomorrow. Try it. Try doing algebra when you know that in less than a week, you could be involved in a real-life, alien invasion. An _open _invasion. I imagined missiles flying, Dracon-fire everywhere, army troops fighting Hork-bajir in the streets. It would be horrible, but in a way, it would be great. Right now, humans didn't have a fighting chance. If our mission worked, we would give them that chance.

I thought about what I would do personally, if it worked. Tom would be at the ceremony – I'd go straight for him, grab him, get him to safety. There would be time to explain everything later – my first priority would be to get him and my parents somewhere safe to ride out the coming battle. Then, I'd get with my friends, get any of their remaining family out of the danger zone. After that, we'd coordinate with human armed forces – give them the knowledge that they'd need to stand a chance.

After that, who knows? Would we fight with everybody else? Probably. Marco would say that we'd done enough, that we did our jobs, that we let the right people know – that we had to stand back and let them do their jobs. Tobias and Rachel would argue, would want to get into the fight. Ax, too – he was the only one of us who'd actually volunteered to fight the Yeerks. He was born for it. Cassie would look to me to make the right decision, and she'd stick with me whichever way I decided.

I tried to imagine what it would be like. What to expect. I wanted to have a plan for everything that could possibly happen after we exposed the Yeerks. I tried to imagine how they'd be able to hush up a hundred suddenly-free controllers. The simple answer was that they couldn't. They would have to completely control the media, the cops, the military. They didn't. '_It's really going to happen. If this works, it's really going to be the beginning of the end. One way or another, the Yeerks are going to stop stealing human bodies. Human lives._'

I wished we could test the "Yeerk Zapper" before the expansion ceremony. We _could_, but Ax had advised against it. He said with each successive use, the chances of it working properly went down. It might be a 50/50 shot the first time we fired it off. The second time, it might only be forty percent likely to work. We needed a bunch of known controllers in one place, and we needed the weapon at peak performance. That meant no test run.

I tried to think of a Plan B in case it didn't work, some other way to stop the Sharing's expansion. I couldn't come up with anything short of battle morphs raging through the gathering. I couldn't imagine the Yeerks not being ready for that, though. From the way Tom was talking, the expansion ceremony was going to be held outdoors. Even though we'd never attacked the Sharing directly, the Yeerks knew we knew about it. They'd caught us spying on Sharing meetings before. Maybe they thought that's all we would do this time, too – just spy on them. Maybe they were getting cocky. It seemed like their undercover invasion was picking up speed – maybe they were confident that we wouldn't be able to stop it once it reached a certain size.

I did know one thing for sure – if our plan worked, we were going to have to be brutal. The Yeerks sure wouldn't let off the gas. We always tried to consider the morality of our actions, if there was time. I thought that maybe this time, we needed to be ready to go all out. When the fighting got hot and heavy, I wouldn't have time to consider everybody's feelings. I needed to make my calls _now_, figure out how far we would go, because I couldn't afford to have it slow me down once us and the Yeerks got at each other's throats.

'_The Yeerks won't hesitate to use human controllers against us. We can't afford to flinch. Lots of humans are going to die on both sides when this goes down. I need to decide how far I can go _before _we're in the middle of it._'

Cassie was the only one that would have a problem with my ordering the deaths of human controllers. She would understand it was necessary. I didn't think that would be enough to make her actually go through with it, though. Thinking along these lines was troubling to me, and I decided I needed some help planning for all of these contingencies. I needed to talk to the Animorph who would completely understand all the terrible things that were about to happen, and go through with them anyway. I stared at my Algebra book for a minute, then glanced at the clock. Eight o'clock. Not too late. I tucked the book under my arm and headed downstairs.

"Mom?" I said to her back as she did the dishes from dinner. "I need some help with some of this homework. I'm going to ride my bike over to Rachel's for a while."

She turned around, and abruptly gave me a big smile. "You're such a good kid, Jake. Sick today, and still going out of your way to get your homework right." I felt a pang of regret at having to lie to her. '_One more week,_' I told myself. '_One more week, and then I'll never have to lie again._' I still felt bad, but it got a little easier as told myself that. I slung my backpack on and rode my bike out of the garage. If anyone could help put my mind at ease about all these uncertainties, it was Rachel. She would tell me if I was right or wrong while keeping the big picture in mind. Marco probably could, too, but he'd factor in what the decisions would do to me. I couldn't afford that. I needed Rachel's warrior mindset.

Rachel would understand that this was going to be ugly. She would understand that people were going to die horribly because of our actions. She would also understand how necessary it was.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

"Hey, Aunt Naomi," I said when Rachel's mom answered the door. She looked mildly surprised to see me. "Is Rachel home? I needed to ask her a few questions about the homework," I pointed to my backpack.

"What's up, Jake?" Rachel said from behind her mom, cautiously. Nighttime house calls weren't really my M.O. – she was assuming there was a problem.

"Nothing much," I said, keeping my tone light so she would hopefully know that my visit wasn't announcing something urgent. "Just had a few questions about this sin and cosine stuff." Rachel's mom gave me an uncertain smile and headed back into the house. Rachel came outside.

"Nothing wrong," I assured her, and she relaxed a little. "I just needed to talk. You got a few minutes?"

"Yes. _Please _get me out of this house," she muttered. At my questioning look, she said, "My dad made another bid earlier to get me to move out of town with him. My mom thinks I'm considering it, so she's in a crappy mood."

I didn't have to ask her if she was actually thinking about it. Rachel had made her choice, and she wasn't one to second-guess herself. She was going to be where the fight was. Just as importantly, she was going to be where Tobias was. "I've just been thinking about what's going to happen after this weekend. You know, if our _n_-wave thingy works," I started, trying not to sound too heavy. I fell into step beside Rachel and we started walking down the street.

"Well, I think it's pretty simple," she said. "Once their cover is blown, the Yeerks are going to forget about stealth. They're going to start snatching people out of their beds, trying to get as many Yeerks into as many bodies as possible. People aren't going to take that well. There's going to be blood."

"Yeah. I mean, that's what I'm worried about. People are going to go nuts. You can't tell who's a controller by looking at them – people aren't going to know what to do. It's going to be pandemonium."

Rachel nodded. "Of course it will be. It's going to be insane. It's going to be awful. But it'll be better than the way things are. People are going to know the deal. The Yeerks are going to have to take every new host by force." She abruptly smiled. "Besides, you can't tell who a _human _controller is by looking. Hork-bajir, Taxxons, not to mention Visser Three…they're all going to be fair game."

I didn't say anything. I don't know exactly what I was looking to get out of this talk with Rachel. Maybe I just wanted to hear that I was making the right choice, exposing the invasion. Maybe I wanted to hear that it was the _only _choice. Turns out she was thinking the same thing.

"Don't beat yourself up over what's to come. The second Ax told us that he could make a weapon that would make Yeerks lose control of their hosts, we were committed. Right now, we're just a brake on the Yeerks. And we're wearing out. One day, during one of our missions, one of us is going to stop being lucky and get picked off. Maybe all of us. That doesn't bother me – it's just an ugly fact of life for us. Instead of defending the whole human race, we'll be giving the individuals the power to defend themselves. Put yourself in their shoes – wouldn't you rather know, even if it meant life was going to get a lot harder, a lot more violent?" We'd reached the end of her street, so we turned around to walk back to her house.

"Yeah, I would. I know that. It's just a big call to make. The biggest."

"If you want to look at it like that. The way I see it, it's no choice at all. Taking out a Hork-bajir here and a Bug fighter there is never going to win this war. When everybody on Earth is resisting, the Yeerks are going to have a lot to think about. There's always the chance they'll cut and run."

I'd never even considered that possibility, and I realized that I'd been stupid not to. We had no way of knowing how much of their resources were committed to taking our planet. When they started dying and meeting strong resistance, maybe they'd decide it wasn't worth it. It didn't sound like the Yeerks, but again, we just had no way to really know how committed they were.

"I guess. And like you said, we don't really have much of a choice, anyway. I guess if there's any chance we can sabotage the Sharing and let people know what's happening, we have to take it," I said.

"Yeah, we do," Rachel replied as we reached her front porch. "We can't hold them off forever. Giving people the power to stand up for themselves is really the best long-term thing we can do."

Thinking about it like that was better. I'd been viewing it as myself being the catalyst that cost millions of lives. Rachel was suggesting I look at it the opposite way – that I would be the reason that millions of lives would be saved. "I can live with that," I said. "Thanks."

"No problem." She paused with her hand on the doorknob. "So, did you really need help with algebra, or not?"

I laughed. "Seems a little dumb to worry about a bad homework grade under the circumstances, huh?"

She smiled. "Nah. Not dumb. Just human."


	12. Chapter 12

Author's Note – Quick thanks to Sarah1281, Iris129, and uncutetomboy for the reviews. *Scratches arm like a crack fiend*…just give 'em to me, I NEED 'em!

Chapter 12

It was almost time for the bell to ring to signal the end of school when Chapman made the announcement.

I was in biology class, cleaning up my workstation after our squid dissection. I was already looking forward to getting out of there - to check on Ax's progress, sure, but it was also another beautiful day. I wanted to fly. I guess it's only human to want an escape when life got heavy – flying was the very definition of escape.

The speaker above the classroom door popped. "Good afternoon, students. This is your Vice Principle. I have a short announcement – as you all know, I'm active in a community organization called the Sharing. The Sharing is proud to introduce a new program – the Future Leaders program. This will give a select few outstanding students the opportunity to take an active role in improving our club and our community. In return, they'll be offered a generous scholarship to the higher learning institution of their choice." All the kids in the class started talking excitedly, and I resisted the urge to groan. "I would like to offer this opportunity to the following students -" he began listing off names. I tuned out – if what we were planning worked, this was all unimportant. I jumped when Chapman listed my name with the others. "If you're interested, stop by my office immediately after school. Thank you."

A couple kids closest to me congratulated me. A couple made snide, jealous comments. I shrugged to myself as I packed up my books – it didn't matter if they were offering a million dollars and a ride to the moon. I was one guy that was going to disappoint them.

I was heading toward the stand of forest beside the school when Marco caught up with me. "Nope. I know what you're thinking. You cannot blow off Chapman. You can't give them any reason to be suspicious when we're this close."

I shot him a look. "It's not like it's mandatory – you heard him. I'm not even going to pretend to be interested."

"Yeah, you are," Marco said, not joking at all. "What kid wouldn't be? Nobody turns down free money for college, dude. You have to at least go and check it out."

I sighed. As usual, Marco had thought of an angle I hadn't. "I guess. I'll go scope it out, but I'm not going to sign up for anything. I don't care if it's meaningless."

Marco laughed at my grumpiness. "Come on, man. You can tough it out for a few more days. Meet me at my house after you're done – I have a plan." He wouldn't get any more specific or less mysterious than that.

I reluctantly headed back to the school. Chapman's outer office was a little crowded with about a dozen kids. I knew them all – they were the popular ones, the athletic ones. The kids the other students looked up to, wanted to be like. I didn't feel like I fit in at all. Yeah, a lot of people at school knew me, but that was mainly because Tom used to be such a stud when it came to basketball. Tom made the class favorites every year. I didn't think of myself as popular, though, and was probably just here because Tom wanted to get at me from a new angle.

Chapman came out of his office with a clipboard. "Ah, what a sight! The cream of the crop. Welcome, students." At the praise, the other kids looked at each other, cocky and excited. These were people used to having their ego stroked, and it never got old to them. "As I said in the announcement, the Sharing has a unique opportunity for you. In exchange for just a few hours of your time each week, the Sharing is prepared to offer you a basic college fund. This is, of course, in addition to all the normal benefits being a member will afford you. Just as exciting is an incentive program to encourage recruiting. For every new member you are able to sign up, you will receive a bonus to your college fund. In theory, depending on how hard you work, you can easily have your higher education paid for before you ever graduate high school." There was a lot of excited chatter at this. "Furthermore, if your education costs less than you have earned in your fund, the leftover money will be yours to do with as you choose." Now everyone was _really _fired up.

Chapman got a strange look on his face. The look said, '_Listen close, I'm about to let you in on a secret._' All eyes were on him. "The Sharing is growing. We're going to be one of the largest organizations in the world. Getting in and being a part of it now will be enormously beneficial. You thirteen students were not randomly drawn out of a hat – you were each extensively researched, and chosen for a variety of reasons. You represent the best this school has to offer the Sharing." He almost casually passed the clipboard to the student closest to him. "If you're interested, put your name down. The meeting to formally initiate you will be tomorrow night. You could say it's something of a…rebirth. Your whole life will change if you choose to attend."

The clipboard changed hands. I didn't see one person not sign. When it came to me, I just passed it over to the kid next to me. Chapman didn't catch it. "That is all. If you want to attend the initiation meeting, meet here at five o'clock tomorrow afternoon. Have a good day, my bright-shiners."

The students broke off into groups, talking excitedly among themselves. I was the only one who walked off by myself. I made it outside when I heard, "Hey, Jake! Wait up!" behind me.

I turned and saw this guy, Todd, hurrying to catch up to me. Todd was the quarterback of our football team. There wasn't a pretty girl in school not waiting her turn to date him. "What's up?" I asked cautiously.

Even though he'd been in a rush to catch me, he seemed like he didn't know what to say. After a moment of thought, he said, "I saw that you didn't sign up. I was just wondering why."

I was a little suspicious, but it sounded like he was curious, not accusing. "I don't know. I guess I'd just rather be an individual than a cog in the machine, you know?"

He looked at me with open relief. "Yeah. Me too. People start talking about giving you things and changing your life, it makes me squirrely. I don't know why, there's just something fishy about the Sharing, you know? Almost cult-like. I didn't sign up, either," he said in a lower voice, almost conspiratorially.

I felt a sudden affinity for Todd. We'd never been friends – God knows he had enough of those. Even though he was popular, I could never remember him ever being cruel or even talking down to anyone else. He kind of broke the mold of the 'typical jock.' He was decent to everybody, and obviously smart enough to know when he was being baited. "You think they're going to keep after you?" I asked him, curious.

He nodded. "I don't know what it is. They just don't seem to be good at taking 'no' for an answer, you know? But the harder they try, the more my brain tells me to stay away from them." I realized he was walking in step beside me – not following me, but casually continuing the conversation. "What about you? You think they're going to keep trying to get you, too? I know your brother is Chapman's boy."

I felt a slight sting when he said that – unless I was paranoid, there was a tiny bit of accusation in it. "Tom's never taken 'no' for an answer, either. I've spent the last year trying to get him to leave me alone about it. I doubt if that's going to change."

Again, Todd seemed to be at a loss for words for a moment. "Look…I really don't know what I'm getting at, here. I guess it just seems like you're the only one who looks at this creepy Sharing the same way that I do. I just think maybe we should team up, you know? Maybe just get each other's backs. That way, neither of us gets talked into doing anything we don't want to do."

I was surprised. "Yeah, definitely." I was thinking that not having the QB and school stud on their side would really stick in Tom and Chapman's craws. "I'm on board with that. Because you're right – there is _definitely _something wrong with the Sharing," I put as much conviction into my voice as I could. "I'm not sure what it is," I lied, "but it's way off."

Todd gave me a look, like he knew exactly what I was talking about. He looked relieved, like he wasn't crazy after all. He scribbled in his binder, and then handed me a sheet of paper he tore off. "That's my number. Give me a heads up if you need anything." I said thanks, and put it in my pocket. He lingered for a second, then said, "Mind if I get yours? I won't bug you…I just want to be able to call you if things get weird." He looked deep in thought as I wrote mine down and handed it to him. "I just really don't like the way Chapman looks at me. It's almost like he wants to add me to a collection or something."

I laughed briefly. "I know what you mean. Well, take it easy," I said, as I headed toward Marco's. '_If they sign Todd up, half the school is going to join,_' I thought. I thanked whoever was out there that Todd was smarter than the average preppie.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

When I got to Marco's, I told him what Chapman's spiel had been about. I also told him about my encounter with Todd. Marco seemed to think all this was interesting, but ultimately unimportant.

"Let the Sharing do what they want," he'd said. "One way or another, we'll be convincing people it's a bad idea to join this weekend."

Now we were walking down the street, out of the subdivisions and into the city. "Where are we going?" I asked for probably the third or fourth time.

He gave me an amused look. "Quit it. I told you already, you'll know when we get there." We talked about all kinds of stuff on the walk – well, _argued _is probably more accurate. We debated alt rock verses punk rock, 49ers verses the Saints, even Jennifer Anniston verses Angelina Jolie. By the time we got where we were going, I'd almost completely forgotten the Sharing – which, knowing Marco, was the whole point.

"Xtreme Zone?" I read off of the front of the building. "Isn't this where you sign up for skydiving?"

"I guess," Marco said as we walked through the front door. "We're not here for that." He walked up to the counter and said, "Two for the field." He handed them a couple of passes, and they gave us paintball guns and face masks.

"Really?" I said, doubtfully. "We should probably check on Ax, and -"

"No, we shouldn't. He said he'll be done Friday, so he'll be done Friday. Maybe sooner, if you quit distracting him. What you need to do is chill out and shoot some folks." He struck a Bond pose with his paintball gun, waving it around the lobby, and the lady at the counter yelled at him.

We went outside, got put on a team, and hit the field. Marco was pretty good – he was small enough to get behind all of the obstacles, and fast and low to the ground. I made a big target, and I had the welts to prove it when we were done. I managed to pick off a couple guys myself, and I was actually way more into it than I thought I would be. I mean, we fought real battles on a weekly basis. Turns out that without the threat of imminent death, shooting at people and getting shot at was pretty fun.

After a couple of hours of intense paintballing, we went across the street and got smoothies. We got into an extension of our earlier argument session, and hung out on the patio of the smoothie place until it was almost dark. Marco waited with me until my bus got to the stop.

"Thanks, man. I needed that," I told him before I got on.

"Yeah, yeah. I enjoyed watching you get shot up," he teased. We slapped hands, and I boarded the bus as Marco started walking home. '_What a guy,_' I thought sincerely. He'd seen that the stress was getting to me, so he came up with a way to let me relax. Like I said, Marco can drive you crazy, but he can also keep you sane.

When I got home, I went straight to the kitchen. All the running around that afternoon had left me starving. Tom was in there, reading some brochure and drinking a glass of OJ. "Where's mom and dad?" I asked, mainly just to have something to say.

"Out getting pizza." He looked up from his brochure and gave me this cocky grin. "Heard you made the cut for the scholarship program."

I shrugged. "I guess. I didn't sign up. I'm not interested," I said nonchalantly. I had known this would be an issue, so I decided to get it over with.

I wasn't disappointed. Tom's face turned red. "What do you mean, you're not interested? You think you're good enough at sports to get a full ride? We both know you're not smart enough to get an academic ride."

I shrugged again, kind of enjoying the fact I was ticking him off. "I don't know. I don't care. All I know is I'm not going to suck up to some lame club in order to get it. It's shady how hard first you, and now Chapman, are trying to get me to join up." I thought maybe if I implied that I was catching on to him, he'd lay off.

He seemed to totally ignore the implication and focus on the insult. "'Some lame club?'" he repeated. "Even if that were true, wouldn't it be worth a few hours a week in order to have your college paid for?"

"No." I stared at him, trying to throw him off of his game.

He seemed to switch tactics. "What do you think mom and dad will say about this? I'm definitely telling them you're throwing away literally thousands of dollars for your education."

I lost it a little bit. Well, okay – I lost it a lot. "Are you kidding me?" I yelled. "Why the hell do you _care_ so much? I swear, it's like some…_cult_!" I spit the word, like a curse. "How many times am I going to have to say that I don't want to join your damn Sharing? Give it up!" I found myself edging closer to him, bowing up. I was seeing red.

Tom stood up, his own face turning red again. "Give up trying to help you? You're my brother! Even if you _are _a complete idiot."

"I don't want your help! I want your absence! I want you to leave me the hell alone!"

"Hey, hey!" my dad said loudly. I hadn't heard them come in the back door – he and my mom were staring at us. I realized that Tom and I were about six inches apart, both of us with our fists balled up. "Cool it! What is the deal?"

"The _deal_ is that Jake is too stupid for his own good! Tell them!" I didn't say anything, but I didn't back down out of Tom's face, either. "He turned down a free full scholarship earlier!"

"What?" my mom said. "Is that true, Jake?"

I turned to my parents, mentally counting to five. I forced myself to exhale, to calm down. "Yeah, I did," I said as calmly as I could. "Because it wasn't free. It would require me to work for Tom's _cult_ as a recruiter. No thanks," I said. "I'd rather be paying off student loans for the rest of my life."

Nobody said anything for a full thirty seconds. My mom and dad looked at each other, and my dad sighed. "We've been meaning to talk to you about this, Tom. Now's as good a time as any. Your mom and I are glad that you're passionate about your club. We're glad you like helping people. That said, we want you to stop trying to push it onto your brother. He's made it abundantly clear he doesn't want anything to do with it. All you boys do now is fight, and it's always about the Sharing. I mean it, Tom – not another word to Jake about it."

I wanted to yell, to celebrate, to do a touchdown dance. I was too smart for that, though. I could already see the steam coming out of Tom's ears. His mouth worked up and down like he was talking, but nothing came out. He stormed past my parents and slammed the back door so hard I heard glass crack. My parents exchanged another worried look.

"Thank you," I said to my parents. "I just…it's just not for me. The scholarship -"

My dad put his hand up to stop me. "It's okay, Jake. That club has already brainwashed one of my sons. I wouldn't want you to join." My mom shot my dad a different sort of look. "What? It's true," he said defensively.

"Don't say that to your brother," my mom said. "It's fine, if that's what he wants to do. Just like it's fine that you _don't_. We're just tired of the fighting."

I nodded. "I understand. And I won't say anything to Tom. I don't care that he loves the Sharing, but that's his thing. I just want to be left alone." They both nodded, and my dad flipped the pizza box he was holding open. I grabbed two slices, and went up to my room to think.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

It was Thursday afternoon when I got the call that set everything in motion.

Me, Marco, and Cassie had gone flying after school. Rachel had some tutoring thing, and we decided that three sets of eyes would be enough for this particular job, anyway. Tobias had shown up over the school around lunchtime, telling us that the Sharing was already setting up for their big weekend in the park. He'd been watching all day, and took his leave to go hunting when we got over the park.

I'd had an idea that it was going to be big, but I had no idea _how _big until we actually got into the air above it. There was a stage being assembled that wouldn't have looked out of place at an Aerosmith concert. Speakers ringed the whole area. The portable grandstands that the city put up during parades were all over the place. There was additional seating areas being set up everywhere there was room – the Yeerks were expecting the whole park to be full.

(Jake, Tom was telling the truth. They're expecting an explosion in membership. They've got maybe three or four hundred members now…this is set up for three or four _thousand_,) Cassie said, sounding dejected.

(Wishful thinking,) Marco quipped. (I wonder how many of these potential members are going to be hurrying to sign up when all the leaders of the Sharing are pulling their hair, screaming bloody murder.)

(Maybe. The good thing about this place being so cluttered and chaotic is we'll have plenty of places to hide the emitter. Ax isn't a hundred percent sure it'll work, though. What's our Plan B going to be?) I asked, mostly rhetorically. I was memorizing the positions of everything, trying to find good morphing zones.

(Like I said before, the second-best thing we can do is to make them look unstable,) Marco said. (If we can make it look like they can't even handle a promotional weekend in the park, people aren't going to want to waste their time. All that crap about "helping the community" only works on the do-gooders. The majority of the people who show up here are only going to be interested in how fat the Sharing can make their bank accounts.)

(That's sad, but true,) Cassie agreed. (They've gotten about as far as they can go with the philanthropic angle. But I don't see what wild animals running around would do for our cause. People would freak out, but they also wouldn't blame that on the Sharing.)

An idea was beginning to form in my mind, but it was borderline desperate. I didn't want to bring it up unless we had no other option. (Well, we'll keep it in mind anyway,) I said of the circus-gone-wild idea. (If nothing else, it'll clear out the crowd in a hurry.)

We went our separate ways. All the pre-mission set-up was going to be done tomorrow night – this was just a little preliminary scouting. I got home before my parents, and cringed when I saw Tom in the kitchen. He saw the look on my face and put his hands up in a gesture of peace.

"It's cool," he said. "No worries. I'm sorry about the other day. Mom and dad are right – I shouldn't be trying to bully you into joining my club." I noticed the way he avoided saying 'the Sharing.' "As a matter of fact, I wanted to tell you that it's totally fine if you skip the expansion ceremony on Saturday. Mom and dad are still going, and I know they were planning on making a big family day out of it, but whatever. It's your life, do what you want," he said easily. He offered his hand. "Are we cool?"

I was flooded with suspicion, but I shook his hand anyway. "Yeah. Thanks, man. I'm sorry for losing it, too – school, you know? I was just already bent out of shape that day, and I lost my cool."

He gave me a friendly smile, and my suspicion doubled. "It's all good." He stood up and stretched. "I gotta go…heading over to the Shar – to the place-that-shall-not-be-named," he corrected himself, still smiling easily. "Take it easy." I watched his back as he left, totally baffled by this new approach he was taking. I shook my head – if this was his new strategy to get me to join, I liked it. It was a lot less annoying.

The phone rang, and I answered it. "Hello?"

"Jake. Can't talk long – just wanted to give you a heads-up." It took a second, but I finally recognized Todd's voice. "Chapman just left my house. He might be coming your way."

Adrenaline flooded my body before I could realize there was no way Todd could know what he was saying meant to me. He didn't know what Chapman really was, obviously, or he wouldn't be calling with a warning. "What does he want?" I forced my voice to remain calm.

"To push the Sharing, of course. He came over and talked my parents up about it – now they're insisting we all go to their party in the park this weekend. They're totally pumped about the Sharing's scholarship program. They didn't even bat an eye when I reminded them Penn State already offered me a full football scholarship. Chapman convinced them that having a back-up plan in case I got hurt or whatever was the best idea in the world." He paused. "Actually, he made it sound like if I didn't do this, I was _definitely _going to get hurt. I'm freaked, man," he said, and I could hear from his voice that he was.

I wanted so badly to warn him, to tell him a piece of information that would convince him to stay the hell away from the Sharing. I was already getting used to thinking of all the possible consequences before I acted, though – I knew that one overly-informed piece of information I let slip now could be disastrous. If they did manage to make Todd a controller, I couldn't give him anything for the Yeerk to examine, nothing that would let them know I knew more than I should.

"This is getting shadier," I said instead, deciding on the vague-but-convinced approach. "They want you way too bad. Like you said, they won't take 'no' for an answer. This is rubbing me the wrong way," I tried to sound hinky, like I had a bad case of the creeps.

"Yeah, well, the worst part wasn't about me," he said gravely. "That's the reason I'm calling. Chapman said that I was the only one who didn't sign up for the program." He hesitated, like he didn't want to tell me something. "I didn't mean to sell you out, Jake, honest. But I pointed out that you didn't sign, either. Chapman just smiled and said that you'd be changing your mind. He said it like he was psychic, like he knew for sure you'd be joining up. I had to let you know," he finished in a rush.

Even though I was going through a second adrenaline surge in the last minute, I kept my voice even. "This is too much. I don't like it. It stinks. If you can, just stay away from them. Make an excuse to skip this weekend. Hell, disappear if it doesn't look like your parents are going to give in. That's what I'm going to do. This whole thing is just too Waco for me."

"Right?" he said, relieved. "I feel like if I go this weekend, they're going to make me drink some poisoned kool-aid or something. Look, meet up with me at lunch tomorrow so we can talk about this some more," he said, as if suddenly suspicious of the phone. "Later." He hung up.

I put the phone back on the hook. Before I could take a step, I heard the sound of a car door. I looked out the window, hoping my parents were back. I wanted to talk to them before Chapman could.

Of course, it wasn't my parents. Of course, it was Chapman walking up my driveway toward my house.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

'_Should I run? Should I morph?_' I thought desperately as Chapman crossed my front yard. I knew that punking out and running away wouldn't solve anything, so I forced myself to take a few deep breaths as the doorbell rang. '_Get it over with,_' I thought. '_Do it now, before Chapman can try to sell my parents on it like he did to Todd's._'

I opened the door and tried to look surprised. "Mr. Chapman? Uh, hey. You looking for Tom?" I asked. He smiled easily in return.

"No, not today," he said. He peered around me into the house, and that move made me extremely uncomfortable. It was like he was checking for witnesses. "May I come in?"

"My parents aren't home, either," I said. I probably sounded a little edgy, but what kid wouldn't when they got a surprise visit from their Vice Principle?

That creepy smile never left his face. "That's okay, I wanted to chat with _you_ for a moment. May I come in?" he asked again, in the same tone.

Every fiber in me was screaming against the idea, but I opened the door wider and gestured to let him in. '_Gotta play this just right. Can't let him get suspicious._'

I led him back into my kitchen. It had the best view of the subdivision in the house, and I wanted to be able to see if anything else was coming. Not to mention I wanted _him _to realize there was a possibility my neighbors could see him. I motioned for him to sit down at the table, and I took the seat farthest away from him. "So, to what do I owe the pleasure?" I asked, tying not to sound sarcastic or afraid.

"I'm sure you've probably guessed why I'm here," he said. "I just wanted to discuss the Sharing's new scholarship program with you. In particular, why you felt like it wasn't for you."

I delivered the normal excuses. "I'm just really busy, Mr. Chapman. I already spend a lot of my time on school – I'm not as booksmart as Tom, and I have to do a lot more studying. I plan on going out for the football team next month, too," I added on a whim as I randomly thought of Todd. Of course I had no such plans, but Chapman didn't know that.

Chapman nodded, as if he'd expected this. "I understand that life for a boy your age can seem hectic. And I also understand that adding a few hours a week at the Sharing can seem like it would only add to your busy schedule." He paused, as if trying to figure out the best way to phrase what he was about to say. "I could pretty much promise you that accepting this opportunity would make your life a lot easier, instead of the other way around."

Great. He'd turned my excuse against me – now I _had _to act interested, or my excuse of being too busy would look fake. "How do you mean?" I asked, only a little reluctantly.

Even though the whole kitchen table was between us and we were the only two in the house, Chapman leaned forward, as if what he were about to say was confidential. "You say that most of your time is taken up with studying. Well, several of your teachers are members of the Sharing. They would…understand if you had less time to study because of duties at the club. Your grades would reflect your commitment to the Sharing."

I couldn't help opening my mouth in shock. The Vice Principle was offering good grades in exchange for joining? And he wasn't done, either. "In addition, Coach Vance is actively involved, as well. Someone displaying enough character to join the Sharing would not have to bother with the hassle of trying out. Your place on the team would be automatic. And then, there's always your college fund. That's another big worry, gone away."

I was on the ropes. Chapman had never been so blunt before. He sat there, waiting for me to say something. "I don't know, Mr. Chapman. My parents taught me to always earn what I get," I said doubtfully.

His smile widened. "Oh, you _would _earn it," he promised, and I had to resist the urge to morph tiger right there. I felt more threatened with that statement than if he'd produced a Dracon beam and pointed it to my head. "Look at your brother. He does well in school. He's well-liked by students and teachers alike. He's happy to participate in the Sharing – as he found out, it's not a chore, it's fun and satisfying. What do you say? Will you join your peers in an active community role, with considerable benefits? Surely you noticed the other people this was offered to. You would be joining them in your place in the student body – the elite."

Now, I don't know about you, but at my school, teachers and principles had always ignored the social classes that kids often divide themselves into. It was their job to be impartial and give every student a fair chance. Chapman was sitting in my kitchen, declaring that I was better than everyone else. That did it for me – I was done listening to this, and I didn't much care how rude I was going to have to be to get rid of him.

"Mr. Chapman, I apologize if what I'm about to say is out of line. But you're putting me up on a pedestal, and I'm not sure why. I'm no better than anybody else. It may sound strange, but I don't _want _to be better than anybody else. And I've told Tom a million times – maybe I'll only have to tell you once. I have no interest in joining the Sharing." I stood up, letting him know the conversation was over. "So, thank you, but no thank you."

Chapman didn't immediately rise. He gazed at me coldly, but there was also something else in that look. Re-evaluation, maybe? He looked like maybe he'd realized he made a mistake, that maybe he'd underestimated me. He smothered it quickly, and the smile returned to his face. He shrugged and stood, as if it didn't matter to him one way or the other. "It's your decision, of course. Your life. If you change your mind, the offer will be on the table." He shook my hand, but held it a couple of seconds too long. "Life is only as easy or as hard as you make it, Jake. You'll realize that one day. Taking the hard road on purpose usually has hard results." He let go of my hand, and I walked him to the door.

"Thanks again for taking the time to come over, Mr. Chapman," I forced myself to say. "It's not that I don't appreciate the offer." He nodded uncertainly, still smiling, and I shut the door. I watched through the peephole as he got into his car and drove away, and I bolted up to my room, already focusing on my falcon morph. I needed to talk to Marco, and I needed to talk to him _now_. Because I knew how bad the Yeerks were at taking 'no' for an answer, and I had just made myself Target Number One for the Sharing.


	16. Chapter 16

A/N – Thanks again for the reviews that I _am _getting…like I said before, the more people that take the time to be decent and review, the faster I will put out chapters. Out of the at least 40 different people reading, only 4 or 5 are bothering. That number needs to come up. Just saying. That said, enjoy the new content.

Chapter 16

"You didn't hear him, Marco. He was creepy. Fixated. I have no idea why, but they're focused on me. I get the feeling they're not going to quit."

I was sitting in Marco's room. He was lying on his back on his bed, bouncing a tennis ball off of the ceiling. "Quit spazzing. They don't know anything, or we wouldn't be having this conversation."

I got up and snatched the tennis ball. "Will you take this seriously? Chapman _came to my house_. He offered to trade me good grades and a spot on the football team for my joining the Sharing. He's breaking character, something that we've never seen a controller do before. And this doesn't worry you?"

He sat up. "I mean, yeah, it's shady. But _worrying_? Not really. He probably just figures that if you're running around talking about how great the Sharing is, a lot of other kids will join. It's not enough motivation to take you by force – it's more of a convenience thing, probably."

I looked at him blankly. "I can see how you'd be right about that with Todd. I mean, everybody in school wants to be his friend. He'd increase membership by leaps and bounds. But me? Come on, I'm a nobody."

He looked back at me, amused. "Is that really how you see it? Dude, you're another Todd," he said. I shook my head in annoyance. "I'm serious. Not in a captain-of-the-football-team kind of way, but you're definitely popular."

"Now you're just being stupid," I told him.

"No, I'm not. People look up to you, man. It's a quality you have. One of those things that you can't really put your finger on, but that you also can't ignore. If there were a hundred people trapped in a burning building and you were one of them, everybody would turn to you to find out what to do. And you'd have the answer, too. _That's _what makes people notice you, makes them know who you are."

"Whatever. Even if that were true, I still don't think it's enough to make Chapman visit my house," I said.

"Maybe it is, maybe it isn't," he conceded. "All I know is that when the Yeerks want something bad enough, they take it. Today was the perfect opportunity – when Chapman found out you were home alone, he could have hit you with a Dracon set to stun. You'd be a controller by now. So obviously, you're not worth the risk. Yet. I say you just keep playing the rebel without a cause, and they'll forget about it. Especially after we jack them up this weekend."

I flew home, trying to put all of the events of the afternoon out of my head. Whether Marco was right or wrong about _why_ they were pushing me to join right now, my best shot at dropping off the radar was messing up their weekend. I flew in through my open bedroom window, saw that the door was still locked, and quickly demorphed. I put on some clothes and went downstairs.

"Hi, honey," my mom said cheerfully enough. "I thought you were sleeping – your door was locked."

I stretched, as if I had been. "Yeah. Long day. What's up?"

"Your friend Todd called," she said. "He said it was important – that was why I tried to wake you up. I told him you'd call him back."

"Huh," I said noncommittally. "Where's dad and Tom?"

"Your dad's at an office party. You know Dr. Osmund? He's moving, leaving the office. They're probably drinking too much and reminiscing," she said, as if she didn't quite approve. "Your guess is as good as mine with Tom, he didn't leave a note."

"Ah. Okay. I guess I'll call Todd back," I said, and took the portable phone upstairs. I felt slightly more comfortable using the phone now that I knew Tom was out of the house.

He picked it up on the first ring. He did not sound good. "Hello?" he said quietly.

"It's Jake," I said. "You called?"

"Yeah. Something bad has happened. My parents…I don't know," he said. "I don't know _what's going on!_" he suddenly yelled. He sounded on the verge of being hysterical.

"Calm down," I said mildly. "Tell me what's happening. I'll try to help." My mind was racing with all sorts of possibilities, but I forced myself to stay calm for his sake.

"I don't know," he said again, but more in-control this time. "My parents didn't even know what the Sharing was three hours ago. Your brother stopped by after Chapman left and offered to give them a tour of their facility. They've been gone ever since, and they're not answering their cells, and I am really freaking out about what your brother might be doing with them right now!" His voice was going up again, and I knew he was heading toward panic.

"Chill," I repeated, even though my mind was going a mile-a-minute. "It's probably nothing – my brother's in charge of recruiting for the Sharing, now," I told him. "He's probably just doing his job, trying to convince your folks that it's a good idea for you to join." It was really hard not to think about what was _actually _happening to his parents. "The important thing is that you're not with them. Did he ask you to go?"

"No, and that's what's got me so freaked," he said. I could hear the panic edging out of his tone – listening to me being calm was helping him, too. "They want me, right? We know that. So why are they all of a sudden taking my parents on field trips?"

"They probably just figure it'll be easier to get you to join if your parents are into it, too," I told him. "Look, the important thing is to stay away from it, right? Even if they do have some brainwashing machine or something -" I forced myself to laugh, as if I were talking crazy just to talk crazy, "-and your parents come back fanatics for the Sharing, they can't _force _you to join if you refuse to go along with it, right? So for now, that's the plan. Do not, under any circumstances, go _anywhere _with _anyone _on the behalf of the Sharing. Okay?"

"Yeah," he said, a little more relieved. "Yeah, you're right. I just have this feeling…I've known people to have no interest in that club, you know? And then one visit later, they're complete freaks for it. It…scares the living hell out of me, Jake," he said honestly.

"Me too. Chapman paid me a visit, earlier, too," I told him. "I put my foot down with him just like I do with Tom. He left me alone. You've got to do the same thing, no matter what your parents come back saying. _Do not _agree to go anywhere having to do with that club," I reiterated. I thought maybe I was acting a little too sure, a little too in-the-know. If they did manage to make Todd a controller, the Yeerk that took him might be suspicious that I knew what they were up to. "I have no idea what they might be doing in that club, but I just don't like it. For the sake of argument, just stay away from them until we can talk at school tomorrow."

"Yeah, okay," he said. "Definitely." He sounded more convinced. "No matter what, I can at least hold out until school tomorrow. Thanks, Jake." I told him to call me if he needed anything else, and he thanked me again and hung up.

I thought about _why _I was putting myself at risk. In the long run, saving Todd wasn't vital to our mission. Keeping our secret _was_. In a moment of honesty, I realized that I had been equating Todd with Tom. Todd was older than me, good at sports, popular, and totally likeable. Basically, he and Tom were the same guy – before Tom was infested, that is. I couldn't save Tom. Now I was taking steps, risky steps, to keep the same thing from happening to Todd. I put it out of my mind. '_One more day, and then the Yeerks are going to have a lot more to worry about than two guys that don't want to join their club._'


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

I carried my lunch tray into the lunchroom with me, scanning the portion of the room I was fairly sure Todd was going to be found at. It didn't take long – the table at which he was seated seemed to give off a different vibe than the others. It seemed like, if the lunchroom was an atom, then his table would have been the nucleus, the center around which everything revolved.

There wasn't an unknown face at that table. Varsity athletes in letterman jackets, the most popular, prettiest girls, the guys that weren't necessarily involved in sports but that drove the nicest cars and threw the best parties – these were the people who made up the crowd at that particular table. The other tables directly around it were made up of slightly less-popular, younger versions of them – when the next year rolled around, they would graduate to Todd's table, taking their place as the new upper class of the school.

After all I'd been through, maybe it seems silly for me to say I was a little intimidated to approach it. Really, what was the worst that could happen? I'd catch some sideways looks? Maybe even Todd himself would shun me – though, after our talk last night, I couldn't really see that happening. I inwardly shrugged and headed straight for him.

He spotted me before I got all the way there. He looked jumpy, tired. I took that as a good sign, though - as a sign the Yeerks hadn't gotten to him yet. He saved me the embarrassment of interrupting the rest of them by hopping off of his chair. "Yo, Jake!" he called, and every head at that lunch table turned to study me. Todd walked confidently toward me – if he noticed the way everyone was staring, he totally ignored it. He clapped me on the shoulder like an old friend when he reached me, and slowly, the heads began to look away, continuing their own conversations. "Let's walk," he said, keeping his voice low. He kept his hand on my shoulder like an old pal until we got outside.

His easygoing look disappeared completely when we were out of view of the student body. "Thanks," he said. "You were totally right about my parents – they came back bouncing off the walls for the Sharing. My dad has already _told _me we're going to their ceremony in the park tomorrow. He won't hear one word against it. Nobody's said anything about making me _join_, yet, but they're talking like it's a done deal. I feel like I'm losing my mind," he said, and he looked like it. His eyes had taken on a sunken look. As he talked to me, they darted all over the courtyard, as if he expected an attack to come at him at any second. 

"Easy," I tried to soothe him. "Just keep in mind that nobody can _make _you do anything," I lied. "Tom was the exact same way, at first – he was always talking like it was just a matter of time until I saw how great it was for myself and became a full member. I'm still me. A year later, I still have nothing to do with the Sharing."

Finally, he began to visibly calm down. He took a deep breath. "Yeah. I guess," he said. "If your brother's been pushing it for a whole year, and you still haven't joined…yeah, that's good," he tried to talk himself into it. A slightly less-panicked version of his earlier expression returned. "But what about tomorrow? Like I said, my dad has already ordered me to go."

"Then go," I said. He gave me a look like I'd just betrayed him, and I hurried to reassure him. "It's just a party in the park sponsored by the Sharing. They're not going to kidnap you in front of half the town. Nothing bad's gonna happen." I was being honest – I knew that, one way or another, the Sharing was going to have their hands too full to worry about Todd tomorrow.

"I still don't want to go. I don't want to give anyone the impression that I might be considering it," he fretted. "The only reason half my friends aren't already members is because I always talk about how lame it is."

I shrugged. "I don't really know what to tell you, man. It's a personal call. Go, don't go – you have to do what you think is right for you. All I'm saying is that if you _do_ end up going, I don't think you have much to worry about."

He hesitated, then laughed humorlessly. "This is going to sound lame, but whatever. I'd be more comfortable with it if _you _went. That way, I'd _know _that somebody was in it with me, somebody who saw it the same way."

I shook my head – I couldn't afford to mislead him on this point. Not to mention, I didn't want _anybody _thinking I'd been within miles of the place when things went to hell. "No way, man. That would just start Tom's engine all over again. I don't want to leave you hanging, but I will not be there. For any reason."

He nodded, as if he'd been expecting that. "Yeah. That's one thing about you that everybody knows – you stick to your guns. Maybe I need to be more like you, tell my dad what's what instead of just doing what he says."

"Maybe," I agreed. I was a little taken aback by the 'sticking to my guns' thing – maybe Marco was more right about how people saw me than I'd wanted to admit. "It's your call. I hate seeing anybody getting pressured this hard for anything, but at some point, you're going to have to draw your line and dare people to cross it, you know?"

Now he was looking at me with admiration. "You're right. God, I've been being a sissy. It's time for me to put my foot down, too." We started walking back to the lunchroom. "Why don't you come sit with us?" he said when we got inside.

I was surprised, and I tried not to let it show. "Uh…I appreciate it, man, but I don't really think I'm ready for that," I tried to joke.

"Seriously. Nobody will say anything. I think you'd fit in better than you think."

"Nah. Thanks for the invite, but I'll keep doing my own thing. Remember, it's your life, man. Don't let anybody tell you what to do," I said. He gave me one last appreciative look before he went back to his waiting friends.

"Well, your stock just went up," Marco said with a big grin when I got back to my normal table. I gave him a questioning look. "Dude, the whole room just saw that. I can feel _myself _becoming more attractive as I talk to you. Thirdhand popularity – what a joy!" he said. And the thing was, I couldn't even tell if he were kidding.

"Whatever. You ready for this afternoon?" I changed the subject. The plan was to get Ax's emitter in place tonight, and find places to morph for tomorrow. We were going to be ready for the worst-case scenario – the weapon doing absolutely nothing when Ax set it off. If that happened, we were going to break up the party the best way we knew how – battle morphs raging through the park. I still had a back-up plan to that, but I was praying I wouldn't have to use it. I hadn't even brought it up to the others, yet.

"You know it," he said easily. He stood up with his empty tray. "I gotta get out of here before I become _too _irresistible from talking to you. If I hit a charisma overload, it's going to blind everybody." I laughed, despite myself. He left, and I felt a few degrees less troubled than I'd been a minute ago.


	18. Chapter 18

A/N – Still pretty disappointed with the reviews, but what else is new? I'm just beating my head against a wall at this point – if you've ignored my last three requests to leave a two-second review, chances are you're going to keep being an ass and ignore this one, too. It goes without saying that I'm not talking to any possible first-time readers. Thanks to xMissyMaex, iris129, Kaye, Sarah1281, and, as always, uncutetomboy. You too, Quillain – thanks for the support and I look forward to hearing what you think when you get time.

Chapter 18

"Okay," I said as soon as everyone was paying attention. It was after school, and we were all gathered once more at Ax's scoop. "Tobias, what can you tell us about the park?"

(The Yeerks seemed to have outsourced most of the work. I haven't seen many known controllers at all doing the actual set-up work. The people setting up bleachers and concession booths and whatever seem to be city employees. The technical people with the microphones, speakers, and soundboards are from a local events planning company. We shouldn't be called out while we're getting the emitter into place.)

"Are you sure?" Marco asked. "That's kind of a big risk to take. If a controller spots one of us acting suspicious and then the stuff hits the fan tomorrow, we could be in a lot of trouble."

(I'm sure. In any case, I think I should be the one to actually go in and set it up. If I get spotted, well…they'll be looking for a boy, not a hawk in the forest.)

Tobias didn't feel like he did enough for the cause, which was stupid. Nobody did more than Tobias. He was the reason we had a list of probable controllers and Yeerk pool entrances. I happened to agree with him on this point, though. "I like it. The rest of us don't need to be seen anywhere near this thing, just in case. Not in human form, anyway." I shifted gears. "Ax, break down the situation with our weapon for us. Try to keep it simple," I reminded him.

He pointed back to an object that looked almost exactly like he'd said it would – the size and shape of an everyday mailbox. (We will need to hide this relatively close to the controllers we want to affect. It has an effective range of about fifty yards, but the closer it is, the better chance it has to work as it's supposed to. I have programmed it to detonate from this remote,) he held up something that looked suspiciously like a universal remote control with all of the buttons removed except for one. (We will need to keep the emitter out of the elements as much as possible – any moisture will decrease the chances of it properly detonating.)

"So we have to hide it in a dry place close to the Yeerks," Rachel said. "Somewhere on stage would be best. How do we disguise what it is and make sure people leave it alone?"

(Like I said, the Yeerks are basically set up for a concert,) Tobias pointed out. (Speakers of all sizes are _everywhere _on and around the stage. Maybe we could stick it inside one of them.)

"Somebody might notice if we start tearing apart a speaker and then put something inside," Cassie said.

"We can figure it out when we get there," I said. I quickly divided everybody up into groups. Tobias and Ax would morph human and actually do the deed of placing our weapon. We might need Ax's technical knowledge on the ground, and he and Tobias were the two I was least worried about being made by the Yeerks. I would take the spotter position, Tobias' normal job, from on high as a lone falcon. Rachel, Marco, and Cassie would join the other seagulls in the area – Tobias had confirmed that as soon as they'd begun setting up the popcorn machines and concession stands, the seagulls had made themselves at home, so my friends wouldn't be out of place. They'd be out of harm's way, but close enough to quickly demorph and morph something dangerous if Ax and Tobias needed them.

We traveled to Cassie's house, the closest car-accessible place to Ax's scoop we had. Once Tobias and Ax were ready, with our weapon safely in a backpack on Tobias' back, we pooled our extremely limited money and called them a cab. The rest of us morphed and began the trip to the park.

Fortunately, the set-up of the park was almost finished by the time we got there. There were a couple of rent-a-cops patrolling the area, but there wasn't anything suspicious about that – like Tobias had said, there was about a hundred-thousand dollars' worth of sound equipment in place. For the most part, though, everybody was done working for the day. I saw Tobias and Ax disembark from the cab and walk straight into the park, like they had all the business in the world being there. Almost immediately, a rent-a-cop walked up to them, but after a short conversation, he pointed them in the direction of the stage and walked away. I wished I could have heard the conversation. Almost on cue, Cassie called up to me.

(Tobias told them they were there for a last-minute fix of one of the speakers, and the cop didn't think twice, just told them where the stage was.)

Once they reached the stage, I saw Ax point to one of the larger speakers at the front of the stage. He immediately popped the cover off and began pulling the large subwoofer out of its housing. (You guys are fine,) I called down to them. (Nobody in sight for about two hundred feet. One guard walking your way, but he's three minutes out.)

Once Ax got the internal part of the speaker free, he handed it to Tobias, who traded him for the backpack. While Ax fit our device into place, Tobias cast a furtive glance around, didn't see anyone looking, and walked to a trash can behind the stage. He pulled the bag out of the can, tossed the speaker's guts into it, and then replaced the bag. For good measure, he scooped up a double handful of dead leaves, and tossed them into the trash can, too. He finished this as Ax was popping the cover back into place. Tobias gave me a covert thumbs-up, letting me know that they were finished.

(Go north,) I said. (You won't run into anybody that way, and there's a piece of woods you guys can use to demorph.) They did as I said, and a few minutes later, we were all in the air, heading back to Ax's scoop.

(That was way too easy,) Marco said. (You sure you didn't see any hidden surveillance, no cameras, nothing?) he asked us for about the tenth time.

(Nothing,) I said. It didn't sit completely right with me, either, but we pretty much knew what to look for when it came to the Yeerks. (I think we got away with it clean.) Everybody else gave pretty much the same answer.

When we got back to Ax's, we quickly discussed our plan for the next day. We'd marked a few places that would be ideal to demorph and remorph if we ended up needing our battle morphs. We'd start out the day like we had today, though – I'd play spotter from falcon morph, and the others, including Ax, would spy on the festivities as seagulls. Tobias would wait until it was time, then he would morph human and set off the emitter personally. He was beyond excited to play such an important role in the mission.

I went home feeling pretty good. I knew that the fight could be very different come Monday, if our plan worked, but I was ready for it. This was more than just our usual hit-and-run missions – this could be the last time we fought alone. Knowing that we were about to give people the chance they needed to resist the Yeerks almost made me high with anticipation. I said a silent prayer that for once, just for the plan to go exactly as we wanted. I took it as a sign that nobody bothered me that afternoon about anything Sharing-related. As I lay down for bed that night, I felt hopeful for the first time in a long time.

Another A/N – Sarah1281 correctly pointed out that Victor Trent was Visser Three's alias in the show, not the books. For the sake of not changing what I already have down, pretend that Victor Trent is his new alias. Mr. Visser is just sort of lame and obvious to me. Thanks!


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Floating high above the festivities of the Sharing's day in the park, I reflected that from up here, it could be any number of normal events I was looking down upon. Kids ran crazy, some with tired parents chasing after them. A number of food vendors served up treats with a smile. There was even an area set up for carnival games – you know, ring toss, shoot the duck, those sorts of things. The guys working them waved giant stuffed animals, and even though I couldn't hear them, I could imagine them shouting out things like, '_Three throws for a dollar, press your luck, win a prize!_'

Whenever I'd drift off and start to think that we were crazy, that there was nothing out of the ordinary about this, I'd see something that would make me think again. A middle-aged lady was deep in conversation with a security guard, and as I watched, she glanced around and appeared to speak into her wrist watch. One of the carnival workers was on a knee, pretending to fix something in front of his booth, but there was nothing casual about the way he scanned the crowd…and then I spotted the earpiece. (Look alive, guys,) I called down to my friends. (The Yeerks have this place crawling with covert security.)

(No kidding,) Marco said. He was one of the hundred or so seagulls scattered throughout the place. (The ice cream guy has a handheld Dracon in his cooler beside the Nutty Buddies.)

(Tom's here,) Rachel announced. I felt a strange emotion – hope, mixed with anxiety. Whichever way things went today, Tom was going to be affected. At the end of the day, he would either be free, or be in really big trouble. I watched as he made his way through the park, shaking hands and greeting people. I also noticed a boy that seemed to be a little too interested in Tom.

(Tobias, back off a little,) I warned. (I've got Tom – don't blow your cover by following him around.)

He looked up and saw me. (I just wanted to make sure I don't miss the signal to start their speeches or whatever,) Tobias called back in thought-speech. It was a little weird, hearing him inside my head while he was in human form, but the Ellimist's trick had made sure that the human Tobias was just another morph. For now, anyway.

(That's what we're here for, Tobias,) Rachel reminded him. (You just stay inconspicuous until we give you the signal. Enjoy yourself, get a hot dog.)

(Yes, get a hot dog. With mustard and ketchup,) Ax suggested. I guess he was living vicariously through Tobias – he'd been a little grumpy at the sight of so much food and being unable to eat any.

(Here we go,) Cassie said. I re-focused on Tom – I'd allowed myself to get distracted for the moment. (He's talking to the lady with the clipboard – it looks like they're starting to get people together near the stage.) She was right – as I watched, a woman began rounding people up, including Tom and Chapman. People began to fill the stands around the stage. I spotted Todd with his parents, looking way too nervous for a day in the park. I mentally shrugged. '_If the Yeerks got his parents, he'll be getting them back soon. He's really going to think he's going crazy when all the controllers in the area realize they're free and start flipping out._'

Tom got onstage and went to the microphone in the center. I saw Tobias reach into his pocket and finger the remote – I had to warn him to wait until I gave the signal. "Welcome, everybody! Thanks for coming out today. My name is Tom, and I represent the Sharing's local chapter. We've got a little presentation for you, and then we'll have some guest speakers, followed by a time when the floor will be yours to ask questions." He pointed to a tech guy, who started some slide show about how great the Sharing was.

Other people began filling the chairs on stage. I guessed that these were the "guest speakers," power players in the Sharing. Tobias shocked me by what he said next.

(Jake! That guy, on the far left? I can't be 100% sure, but I think that's Visser Three's human morph!)

My brain reeled. I never in my wildest dreams imagined that we'd be able to free Visser Three's Andalite host, Alloran. To have him sitting out on stage like that…the Yeerks must have really thought we would be helpless in a public forum like this.

I scanned the crowd. All of the known controllers, such as Tom and Chapman, were on the stage. They were about to give their presentation or whatever. More of my enemies in one place than I'd ever seen. Not only that, but they were gathered around our weapon. My brain screamed at me to give Tobias the word and set it off. Something else inside me argued, saying the time wasn't right.

(Jake? Look, keep in mind that we don't have to do this,) Cassie said, as if she'd been reading my mind. (If it goes wrong, there's a very good chance Tom will be blamed. I would understand if you said we should wait.)

I watched the crowd, who was enraptured by the presentation. They were doing the old song-and-dance about how, by investing, they'd be helping the less fortunate while fattening their own bank accounts. It sounded like a win-win, and people were going for it. I steeled myself, reminded myself why we were there. '_The Yeerks can't get away with this. We've got to stop them from spreading at all costs. This includes me losing my brother._' It hurt to think that way, but it helped to know that if I could ask Tom what to do, the _real_ Tom, he'd tell me to set that Yeerk Zapper off in a second.

The crowd was clapping now as a man stepped up to the microphone. (Jake, I'm almost positive it's him,) Tobias said again as the MC announced "Mr. Trent."

'_They're all there. Now or never,_' I told myself.

(Now,) I told Tobias. He produced the remote from his pocket and his thumb hovered over the button as Mr. Trent began to speak. (Now!) I yelled, and Tobias mashed the button.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

When Tobias pressed the button, nothing immediately happened. Visser Three, or Mr. Trent, kept right on talking as if nothing had happened. I was so focused on him that it took me a second to notice the people seated behind him on the stage.

Stalk-still and rigid, every one of them. The guy beside Tom…his eyes were rolling in his head so fast it was almost funny. The woman on Tom's other side abruptly stood up jerkily.

"NO! We..No! In me, get out of me!" She started jerking and screaming like a crazy person. Visser/Victor smiled coolly and said, "Can we please get a medic for this young lady? She seems to be having some sort of attack."

As he spoke, two more of the controllers behind him got to their feet. One of them looked like he was going to help the spastic lady, then abruptly stopped a few feet short and full-out punched himself in the face. The other guy took off at a dead sprint toward the side of the stage. He did not stop running when he got there, he just flew off the side, doing the running man until he hit the ground, hard.

Through all of this, Tom sat still. His eyes were closed, but I could see the eyes behind the lids rolling like crazy. A few chairs down, a man in a business suit tried to stand up, then abruptly sat back down, like something had forced him. He looked calm, but tears started rolling down his cheeks. It looked like he was moving in slow motion, but he jammed his hand into his right pocket. When he pulled it out, I could see that it held a Swiss Army knife. I watched, fascinated and horrified, as he flipped out the blade, made a choking, struggling noise, and jammed it into his own neck.

The crowd had been watching cautiously before, like they weren't sure if they were a part of some sick joke. When the guy in the suit stabbed himself in the neck and blood started spurting from the collar of his shirt, it was complete chaos. Visser Three was trying to calm everyone down, but not a single person was paying attention. Everybody was running for the exits, and as the bleachers emptied, I could see that a few of the spectators themselves must have been controllers. They flopped in the bleachers like fish out of water, and I could see now that that was the most common reaction.

On stage, around the stage, in the bleachers…the area was filled with controllers who had lost control. Every controller I could see was seizing or spazzing out in some other way. All except for Visser Three, who was getting ready to bolt. He didn't know what was going on, but he knew that his forces were incapacitated, and he also realized where that left him – unprotected. It must have hit Rachel at about the same time.

(For whatever reason, Visser Three is fine! This is our chance – no Hork-bajir, no controllers with guns. I'm going in!) Rachel yelled, apparently forgetting that she was currently in seagull morph.

Or maybe not. I watched as a lone seagull mobbed the fleeing Visser, trying to peck his eyes. (Rachel, knock it off!) I yelled. I was already diving toward one of our set morphing zones. (Demorph and get something dangerous!) I didn't wait to see if she listened; I shot into a half-open outhouse and began my demorph.

Three minutes later, I burst through the door, fully Siberian tiger. I had been expecting crowds of panicked people – apparently, they'd gotten out quickly. I didn't see anyone at all. I raced toward where the stage was, yelling in thought-speech as I went. (Where's the Visser? Where's Tom? What's happening?)

(I left him alone to go grizzly, and he took the opportunity to demorph! Right in the open!) Rachel raged. (I guess clearing out the park wasn't such a great idea, huh?) As she spoke, the area of effect came into view.

The first thing I spotted was the Andalite in front of the stage. The second thing was that most of the people that had been affected by the emitter were now still. Not dead – I could smell that they were very alive. But there had to be three dozen of them, all sprawled out across the ground.

Visser Three looked confused for the first time. He spotted me, and his main eyes narrowed. I roared, and began to stalk him in an ever-closing semi-circle. His stalk eyes wheeled around, looking for forces to command, finding none. (I suppose it's you and I, Andalite,) he said, and limbered up his tail. (Very good. How did you manage this?) he asked, sweeping a seven-fingered hand across the scene of controllers lying to and fro.

I didn't answer, just swished my own tail and let my stalking pace bring me closer. Visser Three actually took first a single step back, then another. We tried not to talk to him directly, because he thinks we're Andalites, but I just couldn't help it. (Scared, Visser? No army with Dracon beams to protect you now, just one on one. Don't run – this fantastic Earth animal will run you down.)

His stalk eyes continued to look for an escape, despite my warning. As he stepped away from me, a wolf slid out of the brush to my right. Cassie's muzzle was baring all of her considerable teeth. I heard a roar that told me a grizzly bear was on the way.

(If you run now, you will probably survive,) Visser Three offered. (My reinforcements probably won't be in time to help me, but they'll have plenty of time to end you.)

(Shut up, Yeerk,) Ax said as he came onto the scene. He'd elected to stay in his Andalite form. (No more talking. We settle this, now. Pick your poison – which of us do you think you stand the best chance of going through? Which animal is the weakest?) He snapped his tail as if to say, 'not me!'

I saw Ax's right stalk eye lock onto something, and instantly all four were pointed in one direction. (Prince Jake, move!) he yelled. I didn't think, I just leapt to the side. Good thing, too – a lance of Dracon fire incinerated the ground where I'd stood a half a second earlier. I saw the ice cream man holding his head with his left hand. In his right was a Dracon beam.

(Haha!) Visser Three laughed. (A very temporary victory,) he sneered, and as I watched, Tom and two other controllers slowly got off the ground.

(Only a few are getting up,) Marco pointed out. (There are still probably thirty controllers laid out. What do you want to do, Jake?)

I quickly weighed the options. Obviously, the emitter hadn't worked like we wanted it to. The guy who had stabbed himself had gotten control of himself long enough to do that, but the others…it was hard to tell, with them unconscious. The park was cleared out, and the Sharing was going to have a lot of explaining to do. (We call this a win and get out with our lives,) I said. (Start a retreat, get somewhere safe to do bird morphs.)

The ice cream guy seemed to be fighting a headache, but he took aim at me again. I didn't even have to move, this time – the beam went ten feet wide. But he was a good indicator that the others would slowly get their strength back, and we needed to be out of there when it happened.

We all heard the unmistakable whine of spacecraft engines above us. (Haha!) Visser Three laughed again. (Too late! You should have left when you had the chance.)


	21. Chapter 21

A/N – It's Christmas, for God's sake. Out of the dozen readers already, can one of you not leave a review on _Christmas?_ Come on.

Chapter 21

I could feel rather than see the spacecraft that was landing in the middle of the park. I saw the corner section of bleachers crumple underneath the weight of the hidden Yeerk ship. I thought quick, as quick as I could. (Get out of here!) I yelled to my friends, even though I was ignoring my own advice. I turned on the tiger's top speed, tearing after Visser Three. If he was going to escape, I wanted to give him something to remember me by. I wanted him to fear us the way we feared him.

(What about you?) Cassie asked, sounding terrified. I risked a glance, and saw that she was neither attacking or retreating.

(I'll be right behind you! Go, now! While there's still time!) I could hear hydraulics settling the big Yeerk ship down beside me. (We're going to be up to our necks in Hork-bajir in about twenty seconds!)

The whole time I was charging him, Visser Three looked completely indecisive. His stalk eyes looked longingly to where his reinforcements and escape route was in the process of landing. When he realized he was running out of time, he squared his body to me, drawing his tail back to strike.

If I'd been a real tiger, I'd have launched straight at him, going for a full-on tiger takedown. I'd seen the Visser fight before, though, so I put on the brakes about ten feet away. FWAPP! His tail sliced the air right in front of me. As it withdrew to strike again, I took the opening and took him to the ground.

(Jake! Come on! Rachel won't leave without you – she's just looking for an excuse to stay. We've got literally two seconds before – nope, nevermind. They're already coming,) Marco said.

I was in the position I wanted, on top of Visser Three, holding him down. He was slashing with his tail, but he couldn't get any momentum behind it. (Arrgh!) he yelled as I bit down on his weak left arm. (Get him!)

I almost ridiculed him, reminded him that he was all alone, when I heard automatic weapons fire behind us. There were a few PFFTs as bullets hit the dirt beside us. (No, you'll shoot me, idiots!) Visser Three yelled again.

(Everybody's safe except me, you, and Rachel,) Marco updated me. (A dozen guys just came out of the invisible ship – all human, all armed to the teeth. If we don't go now, we're dead,) he said urgently. (I'm not going to tell you again. We're dead, Jake!)

I roared in frustration. We just couldn't seem to finish off this Andalite controller, no matter what we tried. As another round of automatic fire sprayed the dirt, I rolled off of the Visser and made a beeline for the woods. (Rachel, let's go!) I ordered her. (Get freakin' moving, or you're never going to go anywhere again.)

(Already gone,) Rachel said. (Marco too – the reinforcements are way more interested in protecting the Visser than pursuing us.)

I spun away from my original escape route as a controller with a rifle stepped into my path. I went toward door number two, and found that route blocked, too. I spun, realizing that while I was fighting with Visser Three, the human controllers had been setting up a perimeter.

(I hear sirens,) Visser Three said acidly, dripping blood all over the place. (I don't have time for our usual games. Either surrender and demorph, or die.) All the controllers shouldered their rifles and pointed them at me. (Three seconds, Andalite.)

I heard a bang come from behind me, from the ruins of the bleachers. I turned and saw Todd, who looked furious. I looked at his feet and saw why – his parents, both seemingly dead. I grimaced internally as I realized what had happened – we'd incapacitated his controller parents with the emitter, and Visser Three's ship had crushed them when it landed. Even though I was literally three seconds from death, I cringed as I realized that their deaths were on my head.

Todd then did something that shocks me to this day. He calmly walked over to the closest controller, snatched the rifle out of his hands, and clubbed him with it. He then spun in a semi-circle, squeezing the trigger. Everybody hit the dirt as a hail of bullets flew over their heads – I took the opportunity to get out of there. I couldn't just leave Todd, though. (Todd! Get the hell out of here!)

His face didn't change. He still wore that mask of utter calm, like nothing was wrong. He was still squeezing the trigger, although the gun was obviously out of bullets. I saw two or three guys take aim at him – Todd was the number one threat now, not me. (Todd, run! They'll kill you!) Still, his face was uncomprehending. I subconsciously let him go, chalked him up to the game. Because I knew all too well what would happen next.

Even though this was my only chance, and I was almost home-free, I still turned back. I didn't know what I could possibly say to this kid that had just lost his parents to make him listen. I tried one more time, anyway. (Todd, it's Jake!) I yelled desperately. I knew when I did that, I had taken away the option of him becoming a controller. If they didn't kill him, I would have to – I could never let him be taken, now.

I didn't have to worry about it. I watched as no less than five bullets tore into him, throwing him backward on top of his deceased parents. I roared again, in anger and defeat this time. With everything going on, I could still hear the screaming sirens that were approaching. I guess Visser Three was willing to call it a wash. He hustled all of his troops back onto the ship, looking at me with one last glare of hate before he disappeared. I roared again and ran. I ran full-tilt, not just to escape the cops, but to escape my failure. My massive failure that had cost lives.


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

Tom came home at about ten o'clock that night. I breathed a heavy sigh of relief when he walked through the door – the last I'd seen of him, he had been coming to, but I'd had no idea how frayed the Yeerk's connection to him was, if it was frayed at all. Either they'd gotten him a new Yeerk, or, like the microwave, it had just temporarily shocked the Yeerk.

My parent's hit him with a barrage of questions – everyone in town was talking about the events in the park. "Let's just watch the news," Tom suggested glumly. "They'll probably know more than I do, anyway."

I sat on the couch and tried to not stare at Tom. I shook myself out of it as I heard the opening music for the local news come on, and sure enough, it was the top story. "Tragedy in Fallsquare Park," the news anchor guy said. "During a ceremony meant to celebrate growth, local organization the Sharing suffered a huge blow to their image. Several high-seated members of the organization fell simultaneously ill during the presentation. Some have speculated that this indicates either poisoning or drug use, similar to the events of the Heaven's Gate cult. Officials for the Sharing deny these allegations, and continue to state their position that they are _not _a cult."

"In possibly related events, a local young man was found shot to death in the park. Todd Dean, straight-A student and highly recruited football star, was identified at the county morgue just hours ago. Also found were the bodies of his parents, Albert and Rosetta Dean. The cause of death is unclear in their case, and an autopsy is scheduled for Monday. Citizens are outraged, and though the events are not officially related, locals are calling for the Sharing to get out of their city."

An older man, nice-looking, was flashed on the screen during his interview. "I don't know what these "Sharing" people are up to. All I know is they throw a party in the park, and people start acting crazy and shooting each other. Sounds like any other gang neighborhood, and we've got plenty of those. We don't need the Sharing bringing this violence into our parks, too."

The anchor came back on. "These feelings are fairly widespread. There is no denying the fact that the Sharing was involved in something fishy today, according to people in attendance."

Tom muted the TV. "We're ruined," he said sadly. "A bunch of nuts decide to show up in the park on the day we hold a ceremony, and we get all the blame." Ah – so _that _was going to be the story. I was wondering what lie the Yeerks would make up to cover this.

My dad was shaking his head. My mom looked afraid. "Tom, if people are _shooting _people for being in the Sharing now, maybe you should think about quitting."

Tom and I both looked at her in surprise. Tom said, "Mom, that kid wasn't in the Sharing. It was just a random shooting, probably accidental. It was totally crazy today." '_How would you know?_' I thought. '_You were down, unable to control my brother. At least for a few minutes._'

The phone rang, and Tom jumped up to answer it. He said hello, then listened to the voice at the other end for a solid minute before hanging up. He looked scared. "I have to go," he called back into the living room.

"Where? At this hour?" my mom asked, obviously not liking it.

"Emergency meeting. I guess we're going to try to figure out how to salvage the club," he said, grabbing his jacket. "I'll be at the rec center."

"Now hold on, Tom. I want you to take it easy with the Sharing, right now," my mom said firmly, stepping to block his way. Tom rolled his eyes and shoved past her.

"Hey!" my dad yelled. Tom ignored him and disappeared through the back door. He looked at my mom sympathetically. "Don't worry, me and Tom are going to be having a serious chat. I was fine with it when he was just out cleaning up graffiti or whatever, but now he's disrespecting us and people are getting shot at his events. We are going to have a _serious _chat."

I was barely paying attention to this, though. I was already thinking of how I could round everyone up and get into that emergency meeting to spy on it. Everybody was pretty well spent after today, but I didn't see how we could pass up the opportunity to find out just how badly we'd hurt them.

I called Marco first. I quickly told him what was going on, and he agreed we needed to check it out. "Just the two of us, though, Jake," he said. I started to argue, and he stopped me. "Look man, two bugs are less likely to be noticed than six bugs. Not to mention Rachel is seriously bent over today."

"What do you mean?" I asked, surprised. Rachel hadn't said anything to me about it.

"The fact that you went in while telling everybody else to get out. She didn't like that, man. Now that we're talking about it, neither do I. We're a team – there's no such thing as sacrificing yourself and saving us. From now on, if you go in, we all go in. If the six of us together don't stand a chance, nobody's going to go at it alone. How mad were you when Rachel wouldn't bail when you told her to?" he asked.

I knew what he was getting at. "That's different," I said, knowing it wasn't. Marco knew I knew it, too, and didn't say anything. "All right," I conceded. "It was dumb. But I'm just so _sick_ of coming off second best."

"We all are," he said. "And if you want to run a psycho, suicide charge, that's fine. Just don't expect us to stay out of it."

"Right. Okay. Anyway, you ready to crash this emergency meeting?" I thought that this might fall under the category we'd just talked about, about doing everything together, but I didn't bring it up. Everyone needed a rest, and like Marco said, two bugs was better than six in this case.

"Yeah. Owl. I'll meet you on the playground beside the rec center," he said, and hung up.

I felt hinky about leaving the others out, but I shook it off. I had more to worry about. I hadn't even started dealing with what Todd's death meant – that would have to wait for later. I didn't want my parents thinking they had two delinquent sons, so I went down and begged off to bed, claiming sick. Once the bedroom door was locked and my window was open, I closed my eyes and thought, '_Owl._'


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

As it turned out, Marco and I didn't even have to demorph after we met up in the park. I really wasn't looking forward to morphing a roach – I'd gotten caught in a roach motel a few months back. Long story. Anyway, Marco and I had perched up in this old, dead walnut tree a few yards from the rec center, and as we were preparing to find somewhere to go roach and enter the building, Marco had spoken up.

(I almost didn't notice, because these eyes are so killer,) he said. (But if I'm still, I can hear everything being said in that building. Just a bunch of mumbling conversations right now, and I can pick out individual voices. When they get organized, we should definitely hear everything.)

I tried not to let the relief I felt at not having to turn into an insect color my thought-speech tone. (Yeah, these ears _are _amazing.) I listened for a minute. (They may even be better than the eyes,) I said, surprised even as I said it – the eyes were a pair of hi-def night vision goggles. (I can actually tell how high off of the ground the noise is coming from. Like, I can hear the difference between the people sitting down and talking and standing up. Crazy.)

My analysis of the Great Horned Owl's senses was cut short by a slamming metal door from inside the rec center. All of the conversations stopped immediately. The only noise I could hear was from a pair of dress shoes walking quickly across the basketball court floor. The footsteps stopped, and a grave male voice, full of authority, said one word – "Report."

Three, maybe four of the metal folding chairs inside creaked as their occupants stood. The first person to speak had a voice that was familiar to me. Chapman. "We have zero exposure," he said, trying to sound confident and not totally succeeding. "The humans have speculated on everything from gang violence to cult activity, but no one has mentioned anything about invaders."

The grave male voice asked a single question. "What of Tarnash 325 and Velfil 8810?"

"The only two casualties of the Andalite attack," Chapman tried to make it sound like no big deal. "Our people were able to recover them and their hosts. They were healthy, other than the fact that they can no longer neurologically connect to a host."

"And the hosts?" the first guy said, sounding almost bored.

"Destroyed," Chapman replied flippantly. "We tested them first to make sure they were receptive to new infestation. Ninety percent probability of a Yeerk being able to maintain complete control. Rather than take the risk, we disposed of them."

The guy who was evidently running the meeting grunted, and the chair protested lightly as Chapman sat back down. "Next."

A voice I didn't know picked up where Chapman had left off. "We recovered the Andalites' weapon. They had hidden it among human stereophonic equipment. We are still studying it, but it seems to be made up completely of human components. This would suggest the bandits are poorly equipped, with little or no Andalite technology available to them."

The leader said something that made my blood run cold. "If there is no Andalite technology present, how can we be sure it was an Andalite attack?"

The other controller covered for us quite nicely. "The programming and the construction are blatantly Andalite. It emits unique radiation, what I believe the Andalites call _n_-wave particles. It is at least forty years too advanced for any human. While we've known about _n_-wave technology for a while, as well as the danger it presents to the Yeerk/human connection, we've factored it a very low threat. It is an unstable technology at best, and completely unpredictable."

"It was certainly predictable enough to allow the bandit's to ruin our plans," the leader said coldly. "Sit." Another chair groaned as the controller settled back into it. "And the final report," came the command.

Tom's voice, sounding slightly nervous, spoke up. "Our voluntary-controller front organization, the Sharing, has been damaged," he said simply. "Humans react in strange ways – only time will tell how much today's events will affect future membership. I'm estimating that we will take a large, negative impact. The Sharing is salvageable, but it will take a long time and a lot of resources just to get back to where we were." Tom sounded resigned.

"Resources we do not have to allot, at this time," the leader's voice said. "Your new mission is to maintain. The expansion plans will be cancelled for now. You are to take in new members, within your means, but your main mission is to maintain a small public visibility of the Sharing. I don't want it to disappear, in case we need it in the future. But the manpower and resources behind the expansion can be better used elsewhere." With that, he declared, if not the death of the Sharing, then the almost-mortal blow. It would be a shell, no longer delivering selfish, weak, voluntary controllers in any number to the Yeerk effort.

(Well, there you go,) Marco said, sounding pretty pleased. (Yeah, we didn't expose the invasion. Yeah, Visser Three got away, again. But we took a big bite out of the Sharing. I don't know about you, but I'm putting this one in the win column.)

(Me too,) I conceded as a hundred folding chairs scraped the floor inside – the meeting was clearly over. (Let's get out of here – waiiit a second,) I changed course as an idea occurred to me. (What do you say we take a few minutes to watch the doors, see if we can ID a few more controllers?)

(Might as well,) Marco said reluctantly. (Let's get some elevation, though – we can't take the chance of them getting us. The others have no idea where we are.)

We watched the doors of the facility for a few minutes, but surprisingly few of the hundred or so controllers that were at the meeting actually used them. We could hear that they were no longer inside, either. (They must have a secret entrance,) I said, unable to come to any other conclusion.

(And every secret entrance we know of leads to or from the Yeerk pool,) Marco said.

(Want to check it out?) I asked, already getting excited over a new discovery, a new piece of information we could possibly use to hurt the Yeerks.

Marco hesitated. (Not this time, Big Jake,) he said. It didn't sound like a suggestion. (We did what we came to do. Let's not push it – especially out here by ourselves. We're already going to have to explain how we came by this new info. I sincerely doubt Rachel's going to be happy about being left out again, as it is – if she finds out we went in to scout it out even more…) he let it hang, and my imagination did the rest. Mad Rachel was something to be avoided _before_ we became Animorphs. Now that she had a number of dangerous morphs at her disposal, it was even less fun. She'd never actually _done _it – morphed because she was mad – but she'd threatened it a few times, and I didn't put it past her.

I fell into formation beside him, and we silently glided through the night, back toward the suburbs. I replayed the events of the day. I tried to feel positive about stunting the Sharing, but what kept popping out more and more in my mind was Todd and his family. I tried to tell myself that it wasn't my fault that the Sharing had targeted him, and that I'd done what I could for him. '_Not good enough,_' another, more convincing part of my mind said. '_The whole point of this fight is to protect people. To help them not be victimized by the Yeerks. And you cut and run when someone needed you – someone you _know_. That's cold, man. Those three deaths are on you._'

I took advantage of me and Marco's lone, quiet flight home. (Hey, Marco? Be honest – how responsible do you think I am for Todd and his folks? You know I could have saved them, maybe.)

(You're not,) he replied with no hesitation. (You are responsible to the big picture – keeping the six of us alive and fighting the Yeerks on the larger scale. You're useless to the human race if you get yourself killed trying to save one person. It's a hard fact of life, and we have to accept it whether we're ready for it or not. No one person – or thousand people – are worth the resistance. That's all there is. If you would have died trying to save Todd, you would have been sentencing the whole planet to death. You don't have that right.)

The analytical viewpoint surprised me a little in its simplicity. Marco was right – one person wasn't worth all of them. It was sad, and it sure didn't help Todd, but it was true. I tried to force myself to accept it, and I did, but not all the way. Something inside me told me that I was always going to be sad for the one person that I couldn't help.

Because, if I ever stopped feeling that, then I'd lost the one thing we were all fighting for. If I ever stopped feeling pain for the people who were suffering, then I might as well sign up for the Yeerks' side. In order to save people, I was going to have to stay human while making inhuman decisions. It was enough to boggle me, like the way I felt when I thought about whether outer space had boundaries or not. I remembered a quote I'd heard somewhere; "Responsibility rarely chooses us at a time of our liking. It is how we respond to the call that shapes us as men."

Even though not technically by the standards of our planet, I was definitely a man. Responsibility had called. I was answering. It got harder every time, but I was still answering.

A/N – The End! Hope you liked it. Leave any feedback you have in a review, or contact me any other way you want. I just want to hear what you think! Anyway, I'll be moving on to a new fic soon, and it'll almost definitely follow the same model as this one. People seem to be enjoying the 'just another book in the series' format, so I'll more than likely be sticking to it. Be on the lookout for the next installment.


End file.
